The Runaway Artist
by Eliel Re'alta
Summary: After suffering heartbreak and betrayal, Rosalie Williams flees America and flies to London. Upon landing, she realizes that she's not in the London she thought she would be, but the one she dreamed of being. And when she meets two familiar strangers, how can she refuse a once in a life time opportunity to work with Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello everyone! This is my first every fanfic! I hope you all enjoy it. Please point out any mistake you see as I am learning and I wish to be the best I can be not just for myself but for you so you can enjoy reading my fanfic as I see it how my character lives in the world of Sherlock. Now there will be somethings I'm sure you all have seen before but I think I might have a few surprises. I am up for suggests on things though. But here it is, and enjoy.

Also, I don't own Sherlock.

Chapter 1

Buying the plane ticket to London had been easy. Her family was wealthy. Rich is different. She didn't just have the money to fly off to another country on a whim, oh no. If she wanted to, she could have bought a new flat and lived there quite comfortably without having to get a job for the rest of her life and not have to worry about anything. What she was worried about however was whether or not if her true family would forgive her. After all she was sort of disappearing in the night to another country without telling anyone but the driver and maid. She couldn't stand being here anymore. And it hurt. To be thrown away after so long….

Rosalie looked out the window as the driver turned closer towards the airport. When she had told the maid to wake him, she had been surprised. Rosalie could see it. It was close to midnight when she had asked for the driver to be awaken. The drive to the airport had taken a little over two hours, but the plane wouldn't leave until six in the morning. Four hours to contemplate her new life in London. She didn't know if she would stay or come back. Who knows?

The car rolled to a stop. Rosalie didn't bother to wait for the driver to come get her door. Even if she had been better off than most people, her parents had still expected her to be independent. She knew how to cook, clean, the whole shebang. Besides, she watched as Eric, the driver, tiredly got the only large bag from the trunk as she grabbed her two carry-on bags.

"Will that be all, Ma'am?" He placed the said bag beside her on the sidewalk outside the airport. Rosalie shook her head and smiled. "Thanks, Eric, buts that's everything. Go home, rest and take the day off tomorrow." Eric nodded in return and walked back to the driver seat and got back in the car. Rosalie didn't bother to look back to see if he had left as she hefted her messenger bag over her shoulder and pulled the large suitcase in one hand and the smaller carry on in her other.

Getting her boarding passes, checking her large bag and getting through security had been alright. She marched on to her gate and waited the final three and a half hours left before her flight came. None of the shops were open and she had no snacks to munch on. So she pulled out her laptop and opened up Netflix.

Sherlock was still open. That had been her inspiration to go to England in the first place. After what happened with Avery, she had to get away. England has always been on her bucket list anyway. Maybe that's what she'll do. Travel around and complete her bucket list. Rosalie smiled as John and Sherlock laughed after having just returned from running after the cab. Having watched the show so much, she knew a lot of the little facts. She also secretly liked to include the head cannons on Tumblr and Pinterest as well. It added so much more to the show. Benedict and Martin did an amazing job bringing to life these characters. Season 4 was crushing her heart so much more than the season 2 or 3 finale did and she hadn't even witnessed the season finale of 4 yet.

Rosalie watched The Study in Pink and The Blind Banker, during which people started to fill in the gate. Luckily, the credits rolled up when they called out that they would be boarding shortly. So she gathered her things and patiently waited for first class to be called. Once she boarded the plane, she put her things away, turned her phone off and buckled up. Closing her eyes, Rosalie thought of what it would be like if she could live a life of crazy adventures with Sherlock and John. For one, she wouldn't put up with Sherlock's bull shit, make him eat and sleep. Sass around with John. Maybe she would get Mycroft to smuggle a glow in the dark bunny from Baskerville for her. And be besties with Molly. Have coffee and donuts with Lestrade. And bitch slap Sally and Anderson. Dress up with Irene for a day. And have tea with Mrs. Hudson. 'I could live in 221C.' Rosalie thought with a smile just as she drifted as the plane lifted from the ground and headed towards London.

Rosalie jolted awake as the plane landed roughly in England. She grumpily rubbed at her eyes and stared out the window. England stood before her. It was dark and damp and more than likely cold but Rosalie had planned for that seeing as how she was wearing a thick white cable knit sweater with warm pants. She had on a pair of leggings underneath and her favorite thick fluffy toe socks under her boots. A matching blue scarf and hat were underneath her butt now after she had stuffed them next to her and her jacket was spread across her numb legs. The seat belt sign pinged off and she flew out of her seat and moaned in appreciation.

"Sore?" Rosalie looked to her side and for the first time took notice of the flight attendant. She was smartly dressed with a white ascot sort of tie and a silly little hat tilted in the matching blue of her dress. Rosalie just drew an eyebrow up in question to her. The flight attendant smiled. "You slept the whole flight in the same position."

"Always was a quiet sleeper, never once bothered my parents as a baby." Rosalie lied. But the woman left her alone after that. Quickly gathering her things, checking twice to make sure she had everything, Rosalie waited to get off the plane. She kept her phone off so that she could wait till she got to a hotel to see if her true family found out about her little disappearing act. Not soon enough, she was off the plane and at baggage claim where she easily found her bag and went through customs.

"First things first Rosie, get some proper cash." Rosie quickly made it to a banking area and exchanged out currency. From there, she made it outside and paused. Where was she supposed to go? She knew she needed somewhere to go to sleep, but in her flight here, she forgot to book a hotel. Dammit, she knew she was forgetting something. And she was just thinking about it.

At that moment, her stomach growled. Loudly. Food first, then find a hotel. Hailing a cab was a bit tricky but she got one eventually. A kind man was driving and when she asked where she wanted to go, she had no idea. "I'm sorry, I'm new to the area. I just want some food." He laughed and smiled back at Rosalie and she smiled up at him. "I know this place. Little Italian place on the corner. One of my favorite places. How does that sounds?" "Perfect."

The drive didn't seem that long actually. It would have surprised Rosalie if she hadn't been staring out the window taking everything in wonder. When the cabbie stopped, Rosalie took out her wallet and paid him for the ride and gave him a generous tip. Smiling, the cabbie helped her yank the bag out the boot and waved one last time before pulling away. Rosalie turned and grabbed her bags and knocked on the doors. A waiter came and saw the bags. "I'm sorry about this but I need some help. I just came from the airport and was recommended this place to eat." The waiter smiled and pulled the large bag to a table as Rosalie followed, left and returned with menu. "Thank you, sir."

"Billy, ma'am." Rosalie smiled and gently shook her jacket off and flung her hair over her shoulder. Looking down at the menu, she looked at the deliciously sounding items on there. Soon, Billy returned and took her order.

The door opened and Rosalie looked up to see a tall man with dark curly hair and being followed by a shorter man with a short wavy blond hair and a cane. He thanked Billy as he was pointed to the table next to Rosalie and for the life of her couldn't remember where she had seen them before. She watched as tall boy took off his coat and rattled off an address as gimpy sat down and told him to keep his eyes on it. 'Keep his eyes on it? Why? Who are they waiting for? Strange.' Rosalie's food came and she began to tuck in. Rosalie smirked as she heard the comment about someone not ringing the doorbell though, but what tall boy said next surprised her.

"He has killed four people."

Rosalie's appetite disappear after that. She reached out for her glass and began to take small sips. The sudden sense of déjà vu was in full swing. For the life of her she could not place the two men next to her but she swears she knew them. How though. Her answers came when a man came strolling down the restaurant and called out to tall boy. "Sherlock."

Rosalie began to choke on her drink as the water went down the wrong pipe. The three men looked at her strangely as she choked on the water. She saw this and waved her hand. "I'm alright. Wrong pipe." She smiled shyly and this seemed to satisfy them. Rosalie began to panic. She heard in the background now that Angelo was offering them free dinner, mistaking John as Sherlock's date. Though she already knew that. She already that because she watched it happen hundreds of times.

Sitting a few feet away from her were two fictional characters she was dreaming about living with hours ago on a plane. Now these two fictional characters were currently staring at her.

AN: There you have it. Chapter 1! I'm thinking of going ahead and writing up some of two right now. Let me know what you think everyone. I would love to hear what you all have to say. Goodnight!


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Hello again everyone! It seems now that I started to write, I can't seem to stop. I am more likely going to be taking more time with this than I did with my first chapter as I do actually want to hear back from you guys and hear what you guys have to say as well as add more to the story. I'm also going to try and make the chapters a bit longer, I have set a personal goal and will try to get there every time. But any who, I'll be writing more down at the bottom. See you there!

I don't own Sherlock!

Chapter 2

John was currently staring at Rosalie with concern while Sherlock was looking her dead in the face. It sort of unnerved her a bit. Now she knew how the clients felt. It sent a shiver down her back as he didn't let up his gaze. "Are you alright miss?" Her chest felt tight and her throat burned as air seemed to be lacking. John almost got up before she squeaked out that she was alright.

"You're hyperventilating though." Was she really? John looked all over her, seeming to search for further proof to diagnose her that she was not okay. "Really, sir. I'm alright. Just everything is just seems to crashing down around." And it was. One day, she is happy and thinking about the sort of future she would have with Avery, the next, she finds out the truth, runs away to London only to arrive in a different London than she believed that she was to be landing in.

"Oh it is isn't it? After all, that's why you ran away, correct?" Rosalie looked up into the icy blue eyes of Sherlock Holmes. She knew about the condition which caused his eyes to go green to blue, but in this light, it was blue and it was freaking her out a bit how intently they were looking at her. She knew Sherlock could look at someone and deduce their whole life just with a single glance. If she had come prepared mentally and had been ready for it, she would have been more excited that the Sherlock Holmes had deduced her whole life. But in the moment, all she wanted right now was to punch him. And she also really wanted to know to how he knew.

"Sherlock, not now-"

"How?"

Sherlock arched one brow before he complete ignored John and showed off how he is the only consultant detective in the world.

"The luggage under the table suggests you just arrived from the airport and going by the baggage tag, from very far away. However the size and amount suggests that this trip was rushed and seeing how you are here with the bags and not at a hotel meaning you forgot to book a room. The bags under your eyes shows that you have had little sleep in the past few days meaning that whatever caused this happened recently. Your clothes and quality of bags suggest wealth and the ticket peeking out of your pocket says first class and the incident I believe that caused you to run away was that you found out your fiancé was cheating on you which is why you left your cellphone turned off since you got on the plane to avoid his calls."

Rosalie gaped at him. He was right. Avery did cheat on her. Well, he also did something else that that was far worse, but right now, Rosalie was in shock on finding out she might just be in another world with her favorite characters and she still wanted to punch him. Maybe asking how was a bad idea.

"You- You- You high functioning sociopath!" Rosalie yelled at him and turned away. Sherlock's eyes widen just a tad bit. John's as well. They both turned away from the fuming woman and started to make small talk as if Rosalie didn't exist. Angelo soon came around and brought John a plate of food which John hesitantly began to tuck into. Rosalie was thoroughly ignoring them as they began their conversation as if she wasn't there. Or at least she tried to ignore them. The memories of why she left filtered through her head and slowly all of the times she watched Sherlock came through. He really wasn't a sociopath. He tried to be, most of the times he was. Like 95%, but he wouldn't have jumped off St. Bart's if he didn't care about John or Lestrade or Mrs. Hudson. He wouldn't have killed Magnussen if he didn't care about Mary. He wouldn't have half killed himself for John if he didn't care.

Feeling bad for yelling at Sherlock, Rosalie pushed her half-finished plate away and stood. Neither one of the boys noticed and continued on their conversation which was on the topic of relationships when Rosalie tapped Sherlock on the shoulder. He turned and looked up at the woman from before and noticed her fidgeting. John stared a bit, noticing she had calmed from before, seeing as how her breathing was slower and her color better.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, sir."

Sherlock and John both looked surprised, John more than Sherlock. 'Probably because no one's ever apologized for shouting at Sherlock before.' Rosalie thought. She fidgeted some more under his gaze. "Apologies accepted." John said as Sherlock continued to look at her. Rosalie nodded, and finally Sherlock's gaze turned back to the window he was looking through before. "Look across the street, taxi. Nobody getting in and nobody getting out. Why a taxi?" he whispered.

John turned in his seat as both he and Rosalie looked out the window. Rosalie already knew the answer but now she had her chance to finally see it in action. In real life! Sherlock was going on about someone being clever when John pointed out that that's their man, the passenger looking around in the back.

'No Mister Gimpy, it's not. It's the crazy cab driver up front.' Rosalie thought. Sherlock told John off for staring when John said he was staring as well when Sherlock got out of his seat and grabbed his coat. This was it. The big chase scene in episode one. Sherlock and John would run after a taxi on foot and intercept it. Rosalie thought for a moment, should she follow them? Every fangirl must have at least once in their life think of what it would be like to live in the world of their favorite shows and interact with the characters. There's a whole freaking website for it and way more.

To follow or not to follow, that is the question. John was moving and she didn't have much more time left to think this through. To follow after the Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson was dangerous and more than likely insane. The smart thing to do would be to sit down and think of a way to go home. Not to follow a mad man and his loyal companion on a crazy roof top chase. It would be dangerous… The hell with it.

She turned around, grabbed her jacket and threw a 50 pound note on the table. John was just out the door when Rosalie turned back around and followed after them. Shit, she just can't follow two random men she didn't know around London, not without good reason. Besides being from a different world entirely, that is. She'll just have to make her excuse on the go. She did smile when she caught a glimpse of John's forgotten cane in the corner however.

Rosalie rushed through the door and just about crashed into the army doctor. "You know, I think it's illegal to dine and dash." She said as John turned around to see who it was that bumped into him. "Oh, miss, what are you doing out here?" "I could ask you the same thing, Mister…."

"John. John Watson." Rosalie smiled as John lifted a hand to her. She reached out and for the first time ever shook hands with a fictional character. Suddenly there was a squealing followed by a crashing sound and they both turned to see Sherlock on the hood of a nearby car in the street. John simply let go and took off after Sherlock, Rosalie not far behind him. They got to the curb where the cabbie had parked when Sherlock slowed. "I got the cab number!" John exclaimed. Sherlock didn't even look at him when he said, "Good for you," and seemed to curl in on himself. He started to talk to himself, muttering about one ways, traffic lights, and pedestrians. Rosalie watched in awe as Sherlock mapped out an alternative route in his head to intercept the cabbie. Suddenly Sherlock stopped and pointed, springing into action. John and Rosalie quickly followed and watched as Sherlock man handled and pushed a man out of the way, John quickly yelled out an apology and Rosalie just flash a bright smile at the man. The three bounded up the stairs, sounding like a herd of elephants and opened a door which led to a room with more stairs. Sherlock ran up the stairs and John was slowly but surely staying close behind. Rosalie knew that soon they would be making it to the roof soon and sure enough, she turned a corner and there she was behind John and Sherlock on the rood. For once now going down the stairs.

'They make it look so freaking easy on the TV screen', she huffed as she vaulted over the railing after John. 'This shit hard.' She thought. Jumping around and running after Sherlock and John a little ways ahead of her. 'Okay, what's next? Ah, yes. Mind the gap.' She smiled at her little joke as she witnessed Sherlock not even lose pace at the gap, jumping without hesitation. John slowed, stopped, waited, then jumped after Sherlock egged him on and made it. Rosalie simply ran harder for a moment and jumped across, landing and jumping once more down to the walkway John and Sherlock were on.

'Almost there, Rosie, almost done running.' She told herself. Breathing was getting a little bit harder as she pushed herself to keep up. Sherlock led them to some fire escapes which brought them down to the streets again and soon they were running down alleys and back ways when they watched as the cab drove past the opening up ahead. Sherlock grunted and fixed his route, calling out this way and turned right. Rosalie followed him. John however turned left.

"NO this way." "Sorry."

The chase continued. Now they sped their way on busier streets before turning back into alleys. Sherlock burst ahead and threw himself into the street and practically onto the car.

"Police! Open it up." John and Rosalie followed and watched as Sherlock opened the back door and looked at the man, catching their breath.

"No. Teeth, turn ups. What- Californian?" Sherlock went and looked at the baggage tag. "LA, Santa Monica. Probably just arrived." Sherlock began to look around as John looked at him in disbelief.

"The luggage." Rosalie said from behind them. Sherlock arched an eyebrow as John looked at her now. Sherlock began to talk to the American again. "I saw him look at the bag, Mister Watson. And he just did the same to me in the restaurant." John looked back at Sherlock now as he was asking if everything was alright. The man said yeah.

"Welcome to London." Sherlock said and shut the door. The three walked away for a bit but turned around. "So basically, just a cab that slowed down for a bit."

"Basically."

"Not the murderer."

"Not the murderer, no."

"Wrong country, good alibi."

"As they go."

"Where did you get this?"

John pulled the badge from Sherlock's hand.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade?"

"Yeah, I pickpocket him when he's being annoying. You can keep that one, I've got plenty at the flat."

John started to chuckle and Sherlock gave him a look which he caught.

"No, no just… Welcome to London."

Giggling interrupted the two and they turned back to look at the female that had been following them. "What are you doing here?" Sherlock questioned. Rosalie looked up from trying to stifle her laughter in her hands to the men she had been following. "Well someone ran out on their tab, I just wanted to mention that." She looked between them and saw the American man from the cab talking to an actual officer.

"Uh oh." The two looked down her line of sight and saw what she did. "Got your breath back?" Sherlock asked. "Ready when you are." John replied.

The three took off down the road again, only really slowing down once 221B was in sight. Sherlock opened the door and quickly all three filed in and John slammed the door shut. Rosalie huffed as she began to pull off her jacket, hat and scarf while John hung up his coat. Sherlock merely shrugged off his coat and threw it over the end of the banister. Rosalie didn't know where to put her things before deciding to put it over the hand rail by Sherlock's.

"That was ridiculous. That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done." John breathed out as he leaned against the wall. Sherlock leaned next to him and Rosalie decided to take a seat on the stair, still trying to catch her breath.

"You invaded Afghanistan." The three laughed. John pointed it out that it wasn't just him. They continued to laugh until he asked what they were doing at the restaurant. Sherlock began to explain that Angelo's can keep an eye out and that it was probably a long shot anyway.

"So, what were we doing there?" John asked, voice clear now that he had caught his breath. Sherlock cleared his throat. "Oh, just passing the time... And proving a point." He said with a smirk.

Rosalie had been sitting quietly on the stairs now watching them interact with each other. This was the moment that was open on her screen when she arrived at the airport last night. She remembered dreaming of living in the world of Sherlock and now here she was, sitting on the stairs of 221B Baker Street as Sherlock Holmes called out to Mrs. Hudson that Doctor Watson will be taking the room upstairs. She heard someone knocking on the door and watched as John went to answer it.

"What are you still doing here?" Rosalie looked up from where she saw Angelo hand John his cane to see Sherlock standing over her. She was only five foot three, the man was towering over her with that weird look in his eyes like he had a puzzle he can't quite figure out. "You ran out on your tab." She reminded him. That is what she had told John outside Angelo's and what she had told them after they had caught up with the taxi. Rosalie also knew that Angelo gave Sherlock free food, but he doesn't need to know that she knew. "Angelo allows me to eat for free." He replied and looked down at the woman on the stairs. There was something off. Something she was holding back something.

"Oh well, then I guess I paid for you guys anyways." The fifty was plenty to pay for both John and her unfinished meals. Sherlock opened his mouth to speak when John's voice called out, cutting the one sided interrogation off. "Uh, miss. There's something for you as well." Said miss frowned. 'Why would there something for me as well….. Shit.' Rosalie shot from the stairs and was at the door in a flash. She greeted Angelo with a big bright smile.

"Hello, sir! Sorry about leaving so suddenly, I did leave enough money to cover the food though." Angelo chuckled as he hauled the largest bag she had up the stairs, placing it next to the other two bags. "Yes, miss you did, enough to also cover the taxi ride as well." He smiled down at her as she reached out to gather her belongings. "Thank you sir, for bringing them." Angelo chuckled once more before waving off, saying no need. "I saw you follow Sherlock and I figured you might end up here. Also figured I might save you a trip." Rosalie's smile just grew wider at the man and soon he turned and she hauled her things into the flat. She set her things down in the hall and returned just in time to see a flustered Mrs. Hudson asking Sherlock what he's done.

"Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock asked, concern laced through his voice. Rosalie would have smiled at the emotion in his voice now if this wouldn't have been a serious moment. Soon, the cabbie would be here and Sherlock would have to go to get answers as well as make the first move in the great game.

Mrs. Hudson merely said upstairs and Sherlock took the stairs two at a time, John and Rosalie following as well. Sherlock turned and opened the door to the flat and rushed up to a man with early graying hair sitting in a familiar chair as people from Scotland Yard milled around the room.

"What are you doing?"

Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade went on to rant about Sherlock finding the pink case and they began an argument that Rosalie had heard a hundred times, so she decided to take in 221B for herself seeing as she was here in person! The wallpaper wasn't marked with the smiley face yet, but the skull picture in blue was there. The couch where Sherlock took clients and often times sulked sat behind a cluttered coffee table which some Yard people were milling about. Rosalie walked further into the flat and turned around to see the two chairs in front of the mantle that would in the future hold John Watson and Sherlock Holmes on many occasions, especially on one particular drunk night in two or so years. 'I wonder who has the better chair?' The mantle had the famous skull on it and Rosalie was very tempted to just grab it and run and vanish off the face of this earth. More than likely though, Mycroft could find her down and Sherlock would make her return it. The books though had to be her favorite part. Towering from floor to ceiling, the shelves were slightly bent under the weight of the couple hundred or so books they hold. Rosalie loved to read, as it was possible one of the oldest artistic ways to escape reality. She had a library back home that she would lounge in all day on the rainy days, devouring books after books with a cup of tea and a blanket.

"Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?" Sherlock snarled. That brought Rosalie back. A tall thin man became visible to her and a shiver went down her spine at just the sound of his voice saying he volunteered to be there. Lestrade piped up that all the officers here were not strictly on the drugs squad. Rosalie however was caught up in the fact when a young snarky woman she knew held up a jar of eyeballs and asked if they were human. Suddenly she was glad she didn't finish dinner.

"Put those back." Sherlock said.

"They were in the microwave." Sally replied.

"It's an experiment." Sherlock said snidely.

Rosalie now stood with John, who honestly was looking sort of lost. "You okay?" she asked. John looked at her and just gave this half-hearted shrug. "Yes, I suppose. Bit lost though." He turned his gaze and did his little half glare look around the room. She did the same for a moment. Sherlock and Lestrade were arguing loudly together, the slap dash drug squad was still searching what Rosalie was hoping to be none existent drugs and John was still just standing there.

"I never did properly introduce myself did I, Mister Watson?" John turned back to Rosalie and she smiled at him. "Hi, I'm Rosalie." She raised her hand to him just as he did to her outside of Angelo's. He smiled in return and brought his hand up that wasn't still holding his now useless cane. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Rosalie."

"Just Rosalie, or Rosie if you like."

"Than just call me John."

Their conversation was cut short when Lestrade mentioned Rachel being a Jennifer Wilson's only daughter. Sherlock got this confused look on his face, muttering why. Anderson spoke up from the kitchen. "Never mind that, we found the case. According to someone, the murderer has the case and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath."

"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high functioning sociopath. Do your research." Sherlock whipped around and snidely said. Sherlock whipped back around and began to rattle off demands of seeing Rachel. Lestrade barely got out that she was dead before Sherlock went on that there had to be a connection, the how's, where's, when's and whys. Lestrade however interrupted Sherlock.

"I doubt it because she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically, she was never alive." That brought everyone's attention to Lestrade. "Rachel is Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter."

She guessed hearing it on the other side of the screen a hundred times took the brunt of the force away, but hearing about a dead baby in real life. Not good. Both Rosalie and John grimaced and felt awkward all of the sudden. Sherlock however grew more confused and kept asking why out loud. Anderson made a snarky remark about thinking about her daughter in her last moments, and saw the sociopath now.

"She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It would have took effort. It would have hurt." Sherlock said.

"You said that the victims all took the poisons themselves, he makes them take it. Well, maybe he, I don't know, talks to them. Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." John suggested as Sherlock paced across the flat between Lestrade Rosalie and John.

"That was ages ago, why would she still be upset."

Silence. All you could hear was a few people shuffling about. Rosalie closed her eyes and sighed. Lestrade and John just sort of started at Sherlock in mild shock, their eyes flicking around the room. Sherlock's realized this and he too noticed the silence, looking around at everyone's sudden stillness. "Not good?"

"Yeah, not really, tall boy." Rosalie piped up. John nodded his head in agreement while Sherlock just glanced at her, before coming in close to them asking them if they were dying, what they would say.

"Please, god, let me live." John replied emotionless. Rosalie frowned and looked at John as Sherlock asked for some imagination. "I don't have to." It saddened her to hear about John being so close to death, you could hear the hurt in his voice. Knowing he hurt been hurt in Afghanistan was one thing, witnessing it right in front of her the pain he still felt hurt her. Rosalie was tempted to reach out and comfort him but right now they needed to catch a murderer. Later she would.

"But, yeah, if you were clever, really clever: Jennifer Wilson, running all those lovers, she was clever. She's trying to tell us something." Sherlock said as he went back to his pacing. Rosalie watched as he went back and forth trying to figure it out, slowly making her way over to the fireplace.

"Isn't your doorbell working, you're taxi is here, Sherlock." Ice covered Rosalie. Knowing who the murderer is and knowing he was just downstairs waiting to take Sherlock away to try and kill him sent a cold feeling all over her. She froze on the spot as the room continued on around her.

Did she make a mistake? Should she have followed Sherlock and John out of Angelo's? Knowing the dangers ahead, she followed them and now was on the edge. It was all fun to basically parkour across London after the cab. But this was real. Rosalie lifted the sleeve of her sweater and pinched her wrist. Hard. Painfully. Real. This was all real. The dangers of Moriarty and his game, the troubles that lie ahead with Magnussen and Mary… Real people here were dead and going to die.

So much laid ahead, so many enemies to face. All she had been doing was running away and when she first realized that she had found herself in a fantasy world, the first thing she does was run off on a wild goose chase that she knew would be pointless with people who made up! Why, why did she follow John and Sherlock? Was it because it was the heat of the moment? The possibility of this being a dream? Could she even survive in this world properly? Sure she knew all about the events to unfold. Sure she could live and thrive without a job. But someone would notice something and if the wrong people found out... She knew how to defend herself, a requirement her parents had made as well as her true family. She knew how to shoot a gun, to clean and take several hand gun models apart and put them back together because of the times she hung out with security back home, back when she was around 14 or 15 and obsessed with being a teenage girl spy like in her books. Sure she knew all this and had all this knowledge and money to hide, but was it enough to survive? It was more than the average girl had but she wasn't so sure. And it worried her.

"Rosie are you alright?" Rosalie turned to see that John had joined her by the fire place. Concern was evident in his eyes as he waited. She took a moment, breathed before giving John a small half smile. "Yeah, just tired. Probably the jet lag."

"Email, John." John turned away to see that Sherlock was now seated at the small table in the living room talking to Lestrade how clever Jennifer Wilson was. John turned away from Rosalie, which she was grateful for, and found the tag on the case with the email on it. He called it out to Sherlock who typed it in as it was spoken.

"I'm being too slow, she didn't have a laptop which meant she did her business on her phone. So, it's a smartphone meaning, its email enabled so there is a website of her account. The username is her email address and all together now her password is-"

"Rachel." Rosalie and John said in unison. It was brilliant to watch Sherlock work, if Rosalie was being honest with herself. However, Anderson has to ruin everything. "So you can read her email, so what?"

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the IQ of the entire street." Rosalie smiled at the famous line, setting her worries on the back burner for a moment. She and John made their way over to Sherlock as they gazed at the screen over his shoulders. Sherlock went on to explain that they could do much more than just read, her emails, but also track her phone. Something the pink lady had planted on the cabbie so that Scotland Yard could be directly led to her murderer. Sherlock got up, called off Mrs. Hudson and began to argue with Lestrade. John sat down in the seat as Rosalie stood over his shoulder. A ping alerted the two and they watched as a map appeared on the screen of what looked like a bunch of squiggles to Rosalie till it pinged again a few moments later and zoomed again. And the map reference was of Baker Street. Right where they were.

The cabbie was here. On the stairs behind Mrs. Hudson. John called for Sherlock as Rosalie thought quickly of what to do.

'Can't just tell everyone who the killer is. Everyone will suddenly suspect me for being an accomplice then Sherlock will suspect me for holding something back. Can't just shoot the guy, I'll be arrested. Can't scream bloody murder and do the thing like the girl did for Sherlock on the kidnapping case, be sent to the loony bin for that. Can't follow Sherlock down when he goes to speak with the cabbie without John and Mrs. Hudson getting suspicious. Can't do a fucking thing!' Rosalie just about growled when she realized what she can only do at the moment until she figures out what she going to do in this world.

Rosalie looked up and saw Sherlock staring at a man behind Mrs. Hudson as Lestrade called out orders to find a pink phone. The man drew out the phone they were searching for, hit a button then turned and began to leave. A text alert came from Sherlock. Rosalie continue to watch from John's side as he drew out his phone from his pocket and read the text she knew read 'COME WITH ME' on it. Sherlock looked back up at the man and watched as he went down the stairs.

"Sherlock, you okay?" John asked as Sherlock had been standing there for a while. Sherlock turned his head slightly back to John, saying he was fine. Rosalie saw the cabbie's hat disappear from her view and she knew what was coming next. She pulled herself away from John's side and went to the window, listening as John questioned Sherlock on how the phone could be here. Sherlock lied of course when he replied he didn't know but by then Rosalie was too focused on the taxi waiting outside. She could hear John call out asking Sherlock if was alright and Sherlock's reply that he was alright. Bu she didn't care. Not at the moment. Not going the emotional roller coaster she was going through. She waited in the corner of the window out of sight to watch Sherlock emerge from the flat and begin to talk to the cabbie. She couldn't hear anything from up here but she knew what was being said. She watched as the cabbie got into the driver seat and Sherlock stroll up to the window. Rosalie watched as Sherlock Holmes backed away from the window and went to the back passenger door, opening it and getting inside the taxi. And she watched him drive off. Because now all she could do was wait with John Watson in a flat that shouldn't exist and in a world that should only be real. And her world was crashing around her all over again.

AN: This one is over twice the length of the previous chapter. I knew where I wanted to end that one but this one, I tossed up three ideas. I could have ended it much sooner, here or gone on just a little bit further. But I stopped here because I felt that this would be a more sensible stopping area. I had already begun to type this as soon as I finished the previous chapter. I had work the other day and when I got my first reviews….. GAH, IT WAS AMAZING! Thank you for reviewing and for those who have followed this story! I take that as inspiration and motivation to write some more! Anyway, notice any mistakes, tell me, I'm learning. Notice anything weird you don't understand, tell me and I'll check it out.

How do you all feel about Rosalie? I want honest opinions. You'll hear more on her past soon enough, more than likely in the next few chapters. I'm not going to jump straight into The Blind Banker seeing as it doesn't occur for several weeks, nearly a month actually. On John's blog website, which I'm going to use as a time reference, he wrote up A Study in Pink on the 7th of Feb. and he wrote up The Blind Banker on the 28th of March. So there be a little down time between cases.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hello everyone! I've gotten more reviews and just wow! Thank you! It makes me so happy that you all are liking this fanfic. Makes me want to write more. Unfortunately, work and other things in life take away from my writing time, but I am staying strong. I've found that I really enjoy this and plan to continue writing for as long as possible!

I don't own Sherlock!

Chapter 3

John watched as the cab pulled away from the curb. "He just got into a cab. It's Sherlock," he called out, turning to Lestrade and the rest of the drug squad there. "He just got into a cab." Sally scoffed. "I told you, he does that. He left again." She said the last bit to Lestrade before turning around and telling everyone that they were wasting their time. John just stared helplessly at Lestrade, holding his phone to his ear and telling him that it was ringing.

"Well if it's ringing, it's not here." Lestrade said. "I'll try the search again." John hung up and grabbed the laptop Sherlock had been using. "Does it matter," Sally said, coming up behind Lestrade fury visible under her skin. "Does any of it? He's just a lunatic and he'll always let you down and you're wasting your time, all our time." She spoke to John at this point. John was still focused on the laptop and only seemed to be half listening to Sally. Rosalie peeled herself away from the window and joined John on the laptop, standing by his side and watching him reset the search.

"Who is this?" Lestrade asked, frowning towards Rosalie.

'Seriously? I've been here for about 10 minutes now and you're just now noticing me?' Rosalie looked up to see both Sally and Lestrade looking at her. "Rosalie."

Sally scoffed again. "Freak picked up another one." Rosalie narrowed her eyes. While she may be in a fragile emotional state, you still don't mess with her boys. 'Maybe I can get one thing off my Sherlock dream list and slap her.' But before she could do anything about it, Lestrade nodded and called out to everyone that they were done there, Sally turned and left to pack things up. Rosalie glared at the back of her stupid head the whole time she could see it before her attention was called elsewhere.

"Why did he do that? Why did he have to leave?" Lestrade asked John and Rosalie.

"You know him better than I do." Was all John said. Rosalie simply nodded. 'Lies!' Lestrade put his coat on, getting ready to leave. "I've known him for five years- no I don't." John gave Lestrade a blank stare as the inspector was just about ready to go. "Then why do you put up with him?"

"Because I'm desperate, that's why." Lestrade gave him a look of hopelessness. And walked away. Rosalie stood near John's wounded shoulder as he stood by the table, placing the laptop down when Lestrade rounded back on them again. "Because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think one day- if we're very very lucky- he might even be a good one."

John just took this in while Rosalie thought over all the things Sherlock does for others. He rescues Irene from certain death. He 'dies' for John, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. He kills for John and Mary. He almost kills himself for John. Thing with Sherlock is, once you've gained his loyalty, he's going to be there for forever. Sherlock was already turning out to be a good man. One who would risk himself for the handful he cares about.

Rosalie soon realized the thing about being a fan of a television series is that you get the whole story or at least most of it in an hour or two. But Rosalie was now realizing that this was in fact real and that waiting was going to be much longer than she anticipated. Her emotions were going everywhere! She could hardly sit still anywhere and think calmly enough for her to figure out what to do. She sat on the couch and leaned her head against the back. Her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts. She needed a distraction, just a moment to breathe. She needed to get this over with so she could think more clearly.

The search for the pink phone was still up and running and John was wandering around the flat. He picked up his cane and was just about to leave when the laptop pinged again. Rosalie looked up from her position on the couch she had taken and John looked at the laptop. They looked at each other for a moment before John reached the laptop. He picked it up just as Rosalie looked over his shoulder.

"What is it?" John's shoulders sagged before he flipped the laptop close and hurried out of the flat, Rosalie close behind him. She grabbed her jacket, hat and scarf from where they had been left on the banister and John pulled on his coat.

"Wait." John called. Rosalie looked up as she pulled on the jacket and began to tie the blue scarf around her neck. "This could get dangerous. You should probably wait here."

"Yeah and?" Rosalie said. While she may be trying to figure out what she was going to do in this world, she had started this adventure with John and Sherlock. She sure as hell was going to finish at least this one. Her parents had taught her to never leave anything unfinished and this might be the only safe case where she could participate safely and get out of it alive and whole. And besides, once this case was over, she'll figure out what she was going to do. John gave her a look before Rosalie turned him and pushed him towards the door. "Bit of a rush, aren't we?" John rolled his eyes and opened the door. Hailing a cab was easy enough and John pulled out his phone.

"I'm going to call the police real quick. I need you to give directions to the driver." He thrust the laptop onto Rosalie's lap before dialing. Rosalie shoved it right back. The look on John's face asked the question for him.

"I'm an American who just landed here. I have no idea of where I am." Rosalie explained. She had a general idea of where Sherlock was going to go be, but the way the episode was set up, the cut scenes interfered with the viewer's perception of time and location. Sherlock does mention the name of it, but she could never catch it no matter how hard she tried. All Rosalie knew was that it was a school of some sort, for further education. She didn't even know how long the ride would last. For her watching it, it was over in the blink of an eye, here every minute counted. John nodded and opened the laptop while calling the police. Rosalie watched as he handled the situation well, talking with whoever was at the end of the phone asking to speak with Lestrade and giving directions to the driver. Rosalie gazed out the window as building after building past, people going on with their days. So peacefully. The stress of running away and then finding herself in another world or sorts come flooding back and Rosalie turned away from the window.

"Are you alright?" She looked up and John was looking at her with concern. She smiled at him. He really did care about those around him and even if he had only known her for about an hour or so, the concern was nice. "Just worried about tall boy." John gave a little huff that was the beginning of a laugh before calling out more directions.

"His name is Sherlock." Rosalie raised an eyebrow before smiling even brighter at John. "I know." John just gave Rosalie a funny look before going back and concentrating on the map.

It took ages. Rosalie was growing so impatient that she was tempted to just ask about the buildings. She didn't however, but the waiting was killing her. John had to continually call directions to the driver before finally Rosalie put a hand on his arm and pointed out the window. "Look, that's the taxi Sherlock got in." John told the driver to stop and Rosalie paid before the two got out.

'Now John, which one is the good building and the bad building?' Rosalie thought. She had read about how basically when John had made it here, he had to play the same game as Sherlock, only he cheated and brought a gun. She knew that John would pick the wrong building, but he had his gun with him. But what was she supposed to do?

"Rosie, come on. Stay close." Rosalie looked up and saw John rush forward towards the building on their left. She followed, her decision made for her as her boots padded softly against the concrete. John yanked the door open and held it just long enough for Rosalie to slip under before rushing further into the building. "Start checking rooms." She nodded and began to peek through windows of doors and opening some. She knew John would find Sherlock up on one of the higher floors.

They searched the entire first floor before John ran up the stairs and began searching the rooms. John began on the on one side, Rosalie on the other, both keeping within sight of each other. 'Any minute now, he'll find them.' Rosalie thought as she peered through the door window. However the next room shocked her. Opening the door, she could see the larger outside window. Through that, a man with dark curly hair standing in front of a shorter older man, both holding something up in their hands.

"JOHN!" She called, opening the door wider. Soon enough, the ex-army doctor was in the room with her and he ran up to the window. She stayed behind and watched as John looked across the way. Sherlock and the cabbie were still talking but both now were opening a small bottle. They were oblivious of the two in the other building. John called out Sherlock's name, breathed heavily before taking action. He opened the window in front of him just enough, and Rosalie saw him push his coat back, grab at his lower back and pull out a handgun. A Sig Sauer that John holds steadily. The woman in the room couldn't breathe as she watch John aim at the cabbie in the opposite building.

Sherlock was raising his hand to look at the pill in the light. Any minute now, John would shoot. Sherlock was now lowering his hand, the possibly deadly pill getting closer to his mouth. Rosalie covered her own with her hands, barely being able to breathe. It was a loud bang and Rosalie jumped. John lowered his arm and turned away from the window. Without speaking John grabbed Rosalie away from the open door and pulled her down the hall. She had no real choice but to follow. A few minutes passed before they were greeted with the sounds of police sirens and flashing lights. John and Rosalie made it out of the building and watched as police entered the other building.

Sighing, John released his hold on Rosalie. "I'm sorry you had to see that." He whispered. Rosalie looked at his face as a sadness came over it. She figured he hadn't meant to kill in front of anyone but Sherlock had been in danger. She just flashed a smile and shook her head slightly.

"Our little secret." John's eyes widened as a police officer found them and began to question them on what they had heard. True to her word, she didn't mention John at all shooting, letting John take the lead on what went on.

"We had just arrived when we heard it, officer. Rosie and I didn't see anything." "Yes, sir. All we heard was this loud bang coming from one of the buildings. And then you guys arrived." The officers had a sudden look of surprise when he heard Rosalie speak.

"American?" She nodded and smiled. "How long have you been here?" The officer asked, writing all the responses down in a notebook. "Just landed today, sir."

"Welcome to London then." Rosalie started to giggle as John gave a strained chuckle, trying not to. The officer looked at them strangely but Rosalie waved him off saying something about an inside joke. After that, they were excused and John and Rosalie were led to an area outside of the caution tape.

"Welcome to London." John smiled and Rosalie giggled more before she turned back to him. "Why did you seem surprised that I would keep your secret?" John stared at her for a moment and seemed to gather his thoughts. "Well we've only just met." He started. "I don't know the slightest thing about you and yet you are willing to keep a dark secret for me."

Maybe it wasn't Sherlock or Mycroft she should have been worried about figuring her out. Maybe it would be John to do it. Rosalie's eyes widened as she realized the implications. This could ruin everything for them, more people could die, lives that Sherlock and John saved could be lost if someone found out she basically knew the future. A butterfly effect could start if she changed too much around this world. That is what she was scared of most if anyone found her and used her knowledge. She had thought a little while on the couch in 221B, but really back then all she wanted to do was solve the case. Now the case was solved. All her worries were flooding back on her and it seemed to grow. She needed to divert John's attention, now.

Looking up she saw Sherlock sitting in the ambulance with a bright orange blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "How long have you known Sherlock?" She asked. John looked up and saw Sherlock. Looking back at the woman standing next to him, he goes on explaining not long. "Only just met him recently." He said.

Rosalie smiled. "And yet you did what you did after knowing him for so little time?" This brought John a step back and he looked back up to Sherlock who was staring off into space. He diverted his gaze and brought it back to Rosalie. "You have a point."

Sally came over at that moment. "So you were right. Murderer did talk to them." She said. John and Rosalie turned to face her as she stopped a couple feet away. "There were two pills apparently. He made them choose." John raised an eyebrow and gave her a look of somewhat surprise. Rosalie kept quiet, already knowing this. "Lucky bastard killed four people by chance." She said. For once, and more than likely only this once, Rosalie had to agree with Sally. The cabbie had been lucky. Four people in a row making the wrong choice was lucky. However he still killed those four innocent people by forcing them into that situation and making them chose.

"Well, he's done now right? You've got your man." Rosalie said as she crossed her arms in close to her, trying to keep warm. Having lived in much warmer areas, she wasn't used to the damp cold that clung to your bones, and she suddenly felt a chill. Sally nodded. An officer called out to her and she left the two alone, waiting for Sherlock.

"Cold?" John asked, looking as Rosalie tried to stay warm. "Yeah. Just not used to it yet." John smiled and looked up to see Sherlock staring at him while Lestrade stood next to him. Rosalie looked up and saw Sherlock staring.

"Orange is really not his color." John smiled and gave a small chuckle as Rosalie joked about the shock blanket that hung around the detective. She smiled as well and John and her watched and waited as Sherlock came closer to them, chucking said blanket into a car.

"Sergeant Donovan was just explaining everything."

"Really?" Sherlock said as he stood close to John. "Two pills, dreadful business, isn't?" Sherlock just smirked down at John, knowing what he did. "Good shot."

"Yes, it must have been, through that window." John looked towards the window he shot out of before turning back to Sherlock. Rosalie shuffled from one foot to another next to John, having looked at the same window. "You would know. Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you would serve time for this, but let's avoid a court case." Sherlock said. John clears his throat before Sherlock asked if he was alright. "Yes, of course I'm alright."

"Well, you did just kill man." Rosalie looked around the three, trying to see if any of the officers were paying attention to them. None were, but Sherlock was talking a bit loud. John just agreed before mentioning that it wasn't a very good man.

"Nope." Rosalie said as she came back to the conversation, popping the 'p'. Sherlock just gave her a look.

"Frankly bloody awful cabbie." John said. Sherlock chuckles. "That's true, he was a bad cabbie. You should have seen the route he took us to get here." John and Rosalie laughed as Sherlock began to lead them away from the crime scene.

"Stop it. We can't giggle, it's a crime scene. Stop it." Rosalie kept on giggling behind her hand however as they got close to Sally on the phone. "You're the one you shot him." Sherlock said, again loud. "Keep your voice down." Rosalie whispered. Sally gave Sherlock a weird look as she passed, John commenting on it being nerves. Sherlock threw back an apology before turning back.

"You were going to take that damn pill, weren't you?" John said as he stopped, looking at Sherlock. Rosalie took a step and stood half way between the two as Sherlock turned around and said he wasn't. Rosalie rolled her eyes. He totally was. Sherlock continued on to said that he was bidding his time and knew that John would show up.

"No you didn't." John said with a smile. Rosalie also smiled at Sherlock as he lied. "This is how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove that you are clever." John said.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're an idiot." John said. Sherlock smiled. "Dinner?" He asked. John said he was starving. Sherlock goes on to explain about the good Chinese place at the end of Baker Street that stays open till two, and how you can tell that a Chinese place is good by the handle when a man dressed in an expensive suit with an umbrella came out of a car. John noticed him immediately.

"Sherlock." John exclaimed. Rosalie looked up and saw Mycroft coming and John told Sherlock that this was the man he was talking about. "I know exactly who that is." He said precisely before stopping in front of his brother.

"So… Another case cracked. How very public-spirited. Though that is never really your motivation, is it?" Mycroft said. Sherlock just asked what he was doing there with little patience in his voice. Mycroft said he was concerned about him. Sherlock said he had been hearing about his concern. It really was like watching a tennis match with the two. Both Rosalie and John kept flicking their eyes backing and forth between the two. John was confused. Rosalie however was dying of laughter on the inside. The two were so sassy with each other, throwing insults and jabs at each other and returning them back. Mycroft asked if Sherlock had noticed if they were on the same side, to which Sherlock replied with attitude.

"We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud is simply childish. People will suffer." Mycroft said. "And you know how it always upset Mummy." The look on John's face was hilarious as he took in this new info. Rosalie bit down on her lip trying not to laugh or even smile.

"I upset her?" Sherlock said lowly. "Me? It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."

"No, no wait… Mummy? Who's Mummy?" John asked clearly confused. Rosalie was just about to burst out laughing as Sherlock explained it was their mother and that the man who kidnapped John was his brother Mycroft, whom he shot a quick remark about his weight.

"He's your brother?" John asked astonished. John now stared at Mycroft as Sherlock confirmed it. Rosalie felt like her chest was really going to burst with laughter at this, it was starting to hurt a little in fact, along with her throat. This was way funnier to watch in person. John was still confused.

"So he's not…." John paused. Sherlock just gave him a questioning stare while Mycroft did the same. "I don't know, criminal mastermind?"

"Close enough."

"For goodness sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government." Mycroft stated.

"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British secret service or the CIA or a freelance basis." The little brother listed.

A choked laugh interrupted the men. Rosalie was holding her hand over her mouth trying to stop the rest of the laughter from coming out. It was priceless. Seeing this happen right in front of her. "What are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded. Her eyes widened and the laughter fled. She stood there for moment under both of the Holmes scrutiny before John came to her rescue.

"It's actually a good thing she was here, Sherlock. Rosie helped me find you in time." If Sherlock was surprised he didn't show it, Mycroft only arched an eyebrow. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure to meet, miss." Rosalie caved in on herself slightly under his gaze. More than likely if she gave her name to him, he would look her up and that could possible lead to all sorts of problems. "Rosalie," was all she said with a weak smile. Mycroft nodded once and gave her a thin smile. "Pleasure, Miss Rosalie." The elder Holmes turned back to Sherlock just as he was saying his good byes.

"Try not to start another war. You know what it does to the traffic." Sherlock walked off and Rosalie followed at a slower pace. John paused for a moment and asked Mycroft if he was truly concerned for his brother, which he was. "It really is a childish feud?"

"Yes, he always was resentful. You can imagine the Christmas dinners." Mycroft added. 'I can imagine one.' Rosalie thought. John tried to and then greeted Anthea. She barely turned away from her phone but did respond back. When John said that had met and all he got was an "Oh," he left, quicken his steps to catch up with Rosalie and Sherlock.

"So, dim sum?" John asked.

"Mmm, I can always predict the fortune cookies."

"No you can't." The ex-army doctor said with a smirk on his face. "Almost always." Rosalie gave a small smile at that, doubting he could do it.

Sherlock went on to point out he was right, that John had been shot. John was confused for a moment at the sudden topic change but he caught on to it. They went on, teasing each other. Sherlock had been making guesses of his actual wound, shoulder only provided to him in the moment and it being a 50/50 chance to get the right one.

"What are you so happy about?" John asked as he drew next to Sherlock.

"Moriarty."

"What's Moriarty?"

"I have absolutely no idea." Sherlock whispered.

Rosalie had drawn up and was in line with Sherlock as well, half listening to their conversation. This here was the end of episode one. The two of them walking away towards the camera. There was nothing she knew after this. It went straight to the Blind Banker which took place about a month later. She had no idea of their experience at the Chinese place. Or how the rest of their night went. Or really how their lives went outside of the show.

Sherlock called a taxi and the three piled in. Sherlock sat behind the driver across from Rosalie while John sat next to her. He studied her as she gazed out the window.

Five foot three, approximately 140 pounds, size five shoe, late teens to early twenties. Natural dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, American with European roots. Wealthy given her clothes were high quality. Her fingernails had traces of paint along the cuticle, but only on her right hand, so painter. Callouses on the fingertips of her left hand however meant she played a string instrument. No traces of animal fur on any of her clothing suggested no pets. Athletic seeing as she kept up with him and John on their chase earlier easily. And yet Sherlock had the feeling she was holding something back. Very rarely did she hold his gaze, she was either looking at something else or talking with John. Bur she never held his gaze when she talked to him. Her eyes would flick around, looking away. And he wanted to know what she was hiding.

Rosalie was too busy thinking over her options to notice Sherlock's scrutiny. The case was solved and now she needed to figure out where to go from here. For one she was definitely going to find an available room online, but that meant turning on her phone and she didn't feel like dealing with the mass of texts and missed calls she most likely had. She could probably ask John for the laptop once they got to the Chinese place.

Could she even get back to her world? Was she stuck here? More than likely yes. But did she want to leave? That was an important question. True it was dangerous and she could easily get hurt, but it had been fun to go on a case with Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. If someone did find out about her, it would be dangerous, but it had been so much fun watching Sherlock solve the case in person! And running on the roof tops and down the alleys and back ways to the taxi was exhilarating. Maybe she could stay here. It's not like she wanted to go back to North Carolina and be around Avery. And while she missed her friends and true family, this was exciting. Maybe she could find a way to be part of this world.

The taxi stopped and John got out followed by Rosalie. Sherlock got out as well and just walked into the restaurant. John half scowled at the man's back before searching his coat for his wallet. "I've got it, John." Rosalie whispered, having handed the cash to the driver already.

"But you paid before and-" Rosalie waved John off and they both went in and found Sherlock in one of the back booths. Taking a seat across from him, Rosalie slid all the way in and John settled in next to her. She began to shrug her jacket off when Sherlock asked a question.

"What else made you run away?" Her blue eyes shot up to meet his and widened. John shrugged out of his coat as well and placed it next to him.

"Is there another reason why you ran away?" The doctor asked. Rosalie just sighed heavily and kept quiet, peeling the coat off and placing it next to her as well. Honestly it wasn't something she wanted to talk with them yet. She had only just learned the truth herself about the nature of her relationship with Avery, she wanted to think it over more before talking about.

A waiter came and set down menus for the three. Rosalie grabbed hers and hid her face behind it. Suddenly she felt hungry. "I take it then that there is." She got really angry at that and peered over her menu at the detective across from her before shoving the menu back between. "Don't want to talk about it."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and examined the woman more. John however interrupted him before he could ask any questions. "What made you think of coming to London of all places?" Rosalie had to choose her words carefully. 'God is it going to be like this all the time, having to think before I say anything so I don't screw everything up?'

"It was a television show that was on. It just so happened to be set in London and well, wasn't in the best mindset and now here I am. Wanted to get away from the stress of finding out the truth that I just took off." There. Rosalie knew that the best lies were ones that actually had truth to them. Sherlock was the TV show that was on when the thought to run away came to her.

John nodded and went on to ask about the things she hoped to do while in London. She got excited then and began to list off all the sites she wanted to see.

"The Eye, Big Ben, Parliament, the Tower, Buckingham Place, the museums, really I want to go just about everywhere." She exclaimed. John chuckled at her enthusiasm. They went on the chat further on about different sites around London as well as other cities.

It was nice. To just talk friendly banter with John and Sherlock. Sherlock occasionally joined with different facts about the places, often dark and strange but Rosalie nodded her head and went along with it. When the waiter returned, they placed their orders and quickly went back to chatting.

"How did you figure it out it was the cabbie, Sherlock?" John asked. Rosalie didn't know how the conversation got back to the case but she did want to hear what Sherlock had to say.

"It was simply really once he appeared. I had a few questions that revolved around him seeing as how the victims all disappeared from busy streets, crowded areas without anyone noticing. Who do we trust, even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd? When the cabbie showed up at the flat, the answer was obvious. Nobody would notice somebody getting into a taxi. No one would notice someone getting into a taxi because its an everyday occurrence. And a cabbie is a just a back of a head for the most part, someone we trust to get us to point a to point b quickly."

John and Rosalie both nodded their heads, listening intently to Sherlock. It was amazing to see him work things out. John went on to ask a few more questions as Rosalie drifted off in thought. This is fun. A lot of fun. Rosalie peeked at John and Sherlock having a conversation and it was relaxing to be there. It was nice in a way, eating Chinese after a case. Breaking down the things that Sherlock didn't have the time to break down at the moment and explaining everything. They were so caught up in all the little things they didn't notice there food was there till the waiter began to set things down.

"Oh, thank you, sir." Rosalie beamed. The waiter nodded and asked if there was anything else he could do before he left eh table again. Chopsticks and forks had been set and she reached out for the chopsticks, breaking them in half before digging in. Both Sherlock and John were using forks.

"You can use chopsticks?" John asked when he noticed. Rosalie smiled around the bite she had in her mouth and nodded. Many times, Becky Stacey and Rosalie would order Chinese whenever they didn't feel like making their own food. She didn't have a full on chef. The chef back home really only worked to feed the servants around the house, and there weren't many of them. Rosalie actually did her own cooking, only on occasion asking for the chef to cook for her. So she knew how to use chopsticks.

"Fascinating things chopsticks. Been around for thousands of years and uses the lever principle of mechanics." Sherlock said as he pushed around his food with his fork. Rosalie looked at the fork and then looked up at Sherlock.

"Do you know how to work chopsticks?" Sherlock brought his head up and gave her a glare. "Yes." Rosalie smiled mischievously at him. "Show me." Sherlock glared harder. He put down the fork and reached for his chopsticks. Carefully placing one in his hand, he placed the other on top. Then the show started.

Watching Sherlock Holmes trying to grab a piece of sautéed meat was hilarious. He didn't want to give up and kept trying to pick it up. It would just move around when he tried to grasp it. A few times he would get it up but it always slipped from his grasp and he would have to try all over again. John started to shake from the pent up laughter and Rosalie as well when Sherlock brought a piece of meat all the way up to his mouth only for it to fall on his shirt. Rosalie giggled before she could stop herself and Sherlock gave her the hardest glare yet. He might understand the physics of it, but actually using the things, Sherlock was clueless. John was silently laughing and trying not to choke on his food.

Having mercy on him, Rosalie brought her hand up higher. "First of all, you're letting the chopsticks cross, they don't. It's better if you hold it like this. Have one laying where your thumb and forefinger meet like a pencil. Then place the other one a bit higher, pinching it between your forefinger and thumb." She demonstrated it and easily grabbed a sautéed broccoli off her plate and placed it in her mouth. After chewing a moment, she went on. "The bottom stick doesn't really move, all you move is the top one."

Sherlock adjusted his hold on the chopsticks and did as she explained. While still shaky, he did manage to get the meat in his mouth. Rosalie beamed at him before he huffed and set the chopsticks down and picked up his fork again.

Maybe she could make it in this world. She knew it would be dangerous. She knew of the enemies that laid ahead. But she knew she could defend herself and keep herself safe though. She knew how to live on her own. She could survive here. Because it wasn't just case after case after case. There were little moments like these between them she could possibly experience. Watching Sherlock struggle with chopsticks as John laughed at his attempts. Moments like these where the dangers seemed to fade away for a moment. Moments that aren't on the show. And she couldn't miss them for the world.

AN: I'm just gonna cut straight to the point. I just watched the season four finale earlier and it just about made me cry. I don't cry easily. And I was tearing up throughout the episode. And it seemed to me like it ended way too fast. I want more Sherlock now! I want to see more of Uncle Sherlock and the boys running around solving cases! Gahhh… Oh well, I can wait another year.

Did anyone notice the little nose twitch Sherlock does before he asks the cabbie to clarify on what he meant by more than a man? And how did you guys feel and the chopsticks thing. I got the idea from Reid off of Criminal Minds. Sherlock may understand the idea behind chopsticks but I figured if he had the choice to use a fork, he would always chose fork and never actually learn how to use them.

Tell me what you guys think. I love hearing from you all.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Hello again! Just wanted to give you guys a heads up and say this chapter focuses mostly on Rosalie and her past a bit more and how she settles in London. Hope you enjoy!

I don't own Sherlock!

Chapter 4

Rosalie groaned as her eyes opened to meet sunlight. She had forgotten to close the curtains last night when she arrived at the hotel she had booked, simply throwing things onto the floor by the dresser and not bothering to change. She just took off her top pants and left her leggings and sweater on before crawling under the blankets. She didn't even make it to the pillow before she was asleep, the adrenaline wearing off the further she got from Baker Street.

She had asked John for the laptop once she was finished with her food and he let her use it while John and Sherlock talked some more. John even gave some suggestions but Sherlock had the better ones.

* * *

"Not that one, the manager is a drug dealer and half of his staff is likely to pocket something small and valuable."

"Nope, the cleaning staff are all useless at their job and likely to leave everything a mess. That and they have a horrible case of bed bugs at the moment."

"The manager there is incompetent. Don't even know how he managed to obtain that position."

"No, that's more of a brothel than anything else."

Rosalie and John just looked at Sherlock before the three found a place not too far from where they were. She quickly booked a room and soon the three were heading back to 221B where Rosalie grabbed her bags and said her goodbyes.

"You sure you don't need help?" John stood next to Rosalie as she hauled the last of her things to the curb side. "Yeah, I should be fine." John nodded, but he did wait with her till a taxi came and picked her up. Before she could protest, John lifted the big bag and got it into the boot. Rosalie shook her head and placed her roll on carry on in as well, keeping her messenger bag over her shoulder. "Thank you, John."

"Don't mention it. Stop by for some tea when you can. Maybe I can bring you around to see some of the sites." Rosalie beamed at him brightly. "I would like that." Soon enough, they said goodbye again and Rosalie got into the taxi, gave the driver the address and she went on her way.

* * *

Rosalie smiled at the memory. But now she had to actually get up. Groaning, she sat and stretched in bed before yanking the blankets off her legs. The carpet was warm from sunlight and comfortable against her bare feet. She smiled and did a full body stretch. Popping filled the room as her spine arched. The tension left her body and Rosalie stood there a moment before getting on with her morning rituals. She grabbed some warm clothes from her bag and headed to the bathroom. Turning the shower on, she began to undress and hopped into the shower.

'What am I going to do today?' she thought as she let the warm water wash over her. She had already decided that she was going to stay and most likely stay in touch with John and possibly Sherlock. 'First things first is that I'm going to need to find a place to live.' She couldn't just stay in a hotel the whole time, she would definitely need to find a flat somewhere in London to live. That brought a smile to her face. She had remembered that on the plane she wanted to live in 221C. 'That would be cool.' She thought as she began to wash her long dirty blonde hair. But she had only just met the boys. Maybe somewhere else would have to do. Not until she was on a better relationship with the boys could she move into the flat below.

She quickly finished up her shower and got out, drying off and hanging the towel over the shower rail to dry. Dressing in jeans and a forest green sweater, she wrapped a towel around her hair before brushing her teeth. Once she was done, she emerged from the bathroom with a new plan: find a new home.

Plopping down on the bed, she grabbed her phone before she stopped. She had still yet to turn it back on from the plane and her true family was more than likely worried about her but something else popped into her head. Would it even work? It was from another world. She pulled the towel off her head and laid back down on the bed, legs hanging over the edge and toes brushing the carpet.

'I've been so caught up with the fact that I'm in another world that I didn't even realize that my phone might not work?' She looked at the smartphone in her hand. The screen was black and Rosalie stared and wondered at it before finally she pushed the power button. The screen flashed and lights appeared and danced across it. A few moments later, Van Gogh's Starry night appeared and she swiped to the right, punched in her passcode which was the date Avery and her were supposed to marry, and all her apps appeared on the screen. But nothing happened. No message alerts, no missed calls. Nothing. Rosalie huffed and threw her arm down, staring at the ceiling. Then her phone exploded.

It vibrated for a solid two minutes before the influx of texts and voicemails and missed calls stopped coming in. Rosalie sat up and watched as the number on her screen grew higher and higher for each one and when the phone settled, she had nearly two hundred texts, almost fifty missed calls and most of them had a voicemail to go with them. She sat in disbelief. Slowly she opened her messages and found that most were from Becky and Stacey.

B: Rosalie, come outside. We're here!

B: Rosie, where are you?

S: Where did you go?

B: Ro. Boo boo. Light of my life. Babe, whered you go

S: Where are you?

S: We're here, but we can't find you. Please text back

S: Ro, where are you?

B: Just searched all over your house and can't find you. This isn't funny, where are you Rosalie

S: Just asked one of the maids and she said you went out last night. Where did you go? Are you alright?

B: WHY DID YOU GO TO THE AIRPORT?

S: Please call us, Becky and I are worried

Her eyes filled with tears as she read more and more of the texts, most of them asking where she was, if she was alright and safe and to please answer them. She hadn't meant to ignore them for so long but after realizing where she was, she just put this on the back burner and left it alone. Now she was regretting it. She scrolled through several other people texts, also asking where she was. Then she froze.

A: Where are you?

Avery was possibly the one she had been avoiding the most. She had found out about him cheating on her a couple days ago and immediately called off the engagement. Since then, Avery had been trying to contact her and talk with her. She did want to know why he had done it but all chances of talking with him again ever happening were ruined when she had talked to her paternal grandmother. Then she avoided him even more, told the guards at the gate to deny him access and ignored all his calls and texts. She had told Becky and Stacey only the part of the truth and they too gave him the cold shoulder. Now that she knew their whole relationship was practically a lie, she wanted nothing to do with Avery. So she ran away to get away from him.

There were a few missed calls from him, but mostly from Becky and Stacey as well as the house phone. She knew that the gardener and house matron, a married couple by the names of Albert and Dorothy Collins, were more than likely worried about her. They were the ones to console her after her parents died in a car accident when she was 17. The only remaining blood relative she had left was her paternal grandmother. She would have gotten custody of her if her birthday hadn't been so close. There was no real point for her to take over. She did however get to take over the family money again, but Rosalie got full rights to it as heir to the Williams wealth when she turned 21. Albert and Dorothy were the ones who consoled her along with Becky and Stacey after her parents' death. They helped her make the funeral arrangements and helped her out of her depression. While the two never did take her parents place, she still held them very close to her heart along with her best friends.

Rosalie listened to the voicemail of her friends pleading her to pick up as tears strolled down her face. She immediately deleted the ones Avery made as soon as she heard his voice. One voicemail however surprised her.

"Hello. This is Archibald, calling on behalf of Lady Adelaide. She has told me to inform you that she wishes for you to call her immediately after this message." 'So the old hag found out. Probably from Avery.' She deleted the message before listening to the end and finished up listening to the rest of the voice mails. Quickly sitting up and standing, Rosalie began to pace the hotel room, her thumb hovering over her phone.

'Should I call? It's a five hour difference between London and North Carolina. But this is another world. Maybe time runs a little different.' Pushing all doubt aside, Rosalie dialed Stacey's number and bite her lip, waiting for her friend to pick up.

'Would it even work?' She wondered as she listened to the dial tone. She was about to give up hope when she heard a clicking and someone breathing on the other side.

"Hey, who is this? It's like four in the morning." Air was caught in her throat as she heard her best friend mumble into the phone. The tears were burning her eyes and her sight became slightly blurry.

"Hey, Stacey." Silence was all she got in response. 'Did Stacey fall asleep?'

"Ro?"

"Yeah. It's me."

Rosalie pulled her phone away from her ear as Stacey began to yell. "Where the hell are you, bitch! We've been looking all over for you! Mrs. Dot asked the servants and one of the drivers said you headed to the airport the other night. And you didn't tell us anything! Do you know how worried sick we are because of you? When we got to your place and asked around and no one saw you, Mr. Bert and Mrs. Dot both got up and searched all over with us. We've been driving around the city looking for you until Mrs. Dot called and said she questioned one of the drivers who said you made him take you to the airport. Where are you exactly?" Stacey said, breath coming in a bit heavier. Rosalie could just about see her flailing her hands about point at no one and wave them around her, she always did talk with her hands.

"I'm in London."

"LONDON!" Stacey screeched. And then she began to rant. Honestly though, Rosalie was only half listening to her. She was just so damn happy to hear her friend's voice, even if said friend was royally pissed with her.

"Ro, are you even listening to me? God, you airhead, listen to me when I'm scolding you."

"Yes, mother." Rosalie smiled and sat down.

"Listen, I know Avery broke your heart and all, but was running away necessary?" Rosalie frowned at the question and looked at the ground. She hadn't told her friends about her grandmother's involvement with her relationship yet and now really wasn't a good time.

"Yes, it was. I had to get away from everything. And besides, you know I've always wanted to travel." Stacey scoffed on the other side. "Yeah, and now's your chance." The two sat in silence for a moment before Rosalie heard Stacey yawn.

"Sorry about calling so early. I figured I would let you know at least as soon as I could." Stacey just grumbled out something but Rosalie figured that she didn't care.

"I've got to go unfortunately. I've work in the morning." They had been on the phone for half an hour without Rosalie realizing it. She hummed out a responses. "I'll call Becky and Mr. Bert and Mrs. Dot in a couple of hours then."

"Alright. Listen, one last thing. Are you alright there?" Stacey asked worried. Rosalie just thought over the events of last night. Meeting Sherlock Holmes and John Watson had led her on an emotional roller coaster, but after dinner…

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Good. Text me when you call everyone." Rosalie agreed to and hung up. That went alright, she supposed. But now she had a curious question and she needed an answer quick. Popping open Pinterest, she typed in Sherlock head cannons.

Sure enough, all sorts of head cannons appeared. Some funny, some sad, some cross-over ones. Her eyes widened. Rosalie rushed to her messenger bag and pulling out her laptop, she powered it up and waited on the bed, resting her laptop on her legs. The moment her lock screen showed, she typed in her password and sat as the computer loaded up everything. Once Van Gogh's Starry Night over the Rhone appeared, she clicked down on google chrome and clicked on her most recent history, Netflix.

Sure enough, she still had Sherlock on her continue to watch list. This complicated things. While it was great that she could watch the season four finale now, being in the world of Sherlock was not a good thing when her phone and laptop had basically a rundown of the things to come.

She knew she was staying and would more than likely try to be friends with John and Sherlock. However, she needed to be careful. Sherlock could not get his hands on her phone or laptop at all. If he watched any part of the show, or read anything about it, it could alter things. Thinking, she quickly went to her settings and went through the security settings. She clicked on change the password and typed in her old password to verify that it was her. When she went in to type in a new password, she froze.

What could she possibly put down that Sherlock wouldn't figure out? Her mind became blank and she threw herself down on the bed. If Sherlock could figure out Major Barrymore's password just by looking around his office for a few minutes, Sherlock could easily figure out hers. Then it came. Launching herself off the bed, she held the laptop and quickly placed her hands over the key board and typed in one word.

Mystrade.

'He could never guess that.' She thought wickedly as she grinned down at her laptop. If Sherlock ever did get his hands on her laptop, he could never guess a ship name of his own brother and Lestrade. Still smiling like a fool, she grabbed her phone and went to change the settings on it as well. Her phone was able to both recognize fingerprints as well as use a password. She set it up just for that, pressing her thumb against the screen. When it asked for a password, she paused before deciding on using something else. If Sherlock did figure out her laptop, her phone couldn't have a similar passcode. Settling for using Clara's Wi-Fi password, she synced up her devices so that she could be alerted if someone got onto it.

Rosalie stood from the bed and replaced her laptop back to her bag. She decided then she was going to go see some of the sights and look around for a flat. It was already getting close to ten so lunch she would have to go out anyway. Brushing her now mostly dried hair and putting on some socks and her boots from yesterday, Rosalie reached for her jacket and wrapped her scarf around. When she went looking for her hat though…

"Where the hell did I put it?" She searched every possible place she could think, Wasn't in her pockets, or on the bed. Not in or around her bags either nor on top of the dresser or desk that was in the room. Rosalie huffed and stomped her foot. She thought back to when she had last had it.

She made sure she had it on the plane. She didn't take it off in the taxi to Angelo's and she didn't remove it then either. She had it when she ran after John and Sherlock and took it off when they made it to Baker Street. After Sherlock left and John and Rosalie followed… she didn't grab it. She remembered now just wrapping her scarf around her necking before pushing John towards the door. It must have fallen and she had completely forgotten about it. The scarf and hat were a gift to her from the Collins back home and she took them everywhere she went whenever there was even a slight wind on a chilly day.

Groaning, she grabbed her wallet phone and key card for the hotel room before yanking the door open and shutting it behind her. She half walked half ran down the hall to the elevators, pushing the down arrow, she mental scolded herself for not noticing sooner. It was a precious gift from somebody she loved dearly. How had she not noticed?

The elevator dinged, she got in where she pushed the button for the lobby. She got down there and marched her way out of the hotel, ignoring the people around her. Walking quickly to the curb, she hailed a cab. One came just about immediately and she hopped in. "221 Baker Street, please."

The driver nodded. It didn't take long for the taxi to get there, roughly ten minutes. She let her eyes wander as the taxi took her to Baker Street. When he did stop, she tipped him and got out and he drove off.

The door was the same as it always appeared. The golden numbers bright against the black paint. The door knocker hung slightly to the right. The American walked up the few steps and knocked on the door. She waited a moment there before she knocked again. 'I wonder who will open the door.' Sherlock was obviously not an option as he never did, but if John was in, he might or Mrs. Hudson would.

She heard a lock slide and soon Rosalie came face to face with Mrs. Hudson. The little old woman gave her a smile as she opened the door wider.

"Oh, hello, dearie. How can I help you?" Mrs. Hudson greeted her. Rosalie smiled up to the woman. "Hello ma'am. I was here yesterday with John and Sherlock. I accidently left my hat here." Mrs. Hudson seemed to know which hat she was talking about because she smiled wider and nodded Rosalie inside.

"Come on in, dearie. I think I know what you're talking about. Sherlock said you left it behind!" Rosalie followed the landlady in and shut the door behind her. She turned around to see Mrs. Hudson halfway up the stairs though.

"Um, where is my hat?" She called out. Mrs. Hudson just motioned her to follow and Rosalie bounded up the stairs after her. "Sherlock found it lying by the stairs, said it was yours and took it up to his flat. Figured you would be back to get it and here you are!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. She didn't bother to knock before opening the door to Sherlock's living room.

There on the table was a familiar blue hat. Rosalie smiled, walked around and grabbed it when a voice spoke up. "Your grandmother gave that to you, didn't she?" Both Mrs. Hudson and Rosalie jumped at Sherlock's voice. They whipped around and found Sherlock dressed in his pajamas and in his dressing gown looking into a microscope.

"Don't do that!" Rosalie whispered, trying to calm her heart. That had scared her and she glared at Sherlock for doing it. The man didn't even look up from his microscope. "Your grandmother gave that to you." The American just looked at Sherlock, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. Sherlock sighed. "The hat."

"Oh." She looked down at the hat in her hand and ran her thumb over the edge of it. "No, actually. A friend did."

"Really? Not your grandmother?" Sherlock got up then and walked up to the woman who barely reached his chin. She looked up defiantly at him and he could see something akin to mischief flash across her eyes. "Nope." She popped the 'p' again and he glared. Then he looked down to the hat he examined last night. Worn a lot and repaired twice by the same person who had hand knitted it. It was made of Shetland wool, and not something a wealthy woman would normally buy, a gift he had assumed from someone close to her. A parent maybe, but grandmothers was a more likely option. But she was saying a friend. It would have to be someone older, much older, as the knitting was uniform from practice, but usually people stayed in a certain age bracket for friends. People made friends with others close to their own age, and this woman barely looked old enough to be on her own.

"Then who?" The woman was infuriating him. He knew something was off about her and now he was making wrong deductions about her. Rosalie could see he didn't like to be wrong and smirked at him. "Like I said, a friend. Thank you though for keeping it safe for me." She gave him her most disarming smile she could. Sherlock just grunted and returned to his microscope, flapping his dressing gown out of the way as he sat. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"Oh, hello Rosie." John now stood in the doorway behind Mrs. Hudson. The landlady turned back and greeted John enthusiastically before she headed back downstairs. John smiled at her before coming into the flat. The doctor came in and took a seat in his chair. Rosalie decided to have a seat as well and plopped down in Sherlock's chair.

"That's my chair."

Rosalie rolled her eyes at the man. He hadn't looked their way but knew Rosalie took his chair for the moment. "You're not using it. I want to have a conversation with John for a little bit." Sherlock turned his head and glared at her. She glared right back before Sherlock turned back around. She had remembered her little list of things she thought of before falling asleep on the plane. Taking none of Sherlock's bullshit was one of them.

"And hello, John. How are you?" She asked, turning her attention back to the army doctor. He smiled and told that he was alright.

"Spent most of the night packing up my things to bring here. I'll be moving in with Sherlock soon." Rosalie's eyes widened a bit, for show of course. She had already knew he would move in. But she had to keep appearances now. "Really? That was quick." John laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, actually it was a mutual colleague of ours that introduced us. Sherlock met Mike first and said something about how it must be difficult to find a flat mate for someone like him. Then Mike met me at lunch and I told him about my situation. He said that I was the second person to mention about needing a flat mate. So he introduced us. Well maybe not introduced us, he just showed me to where Sherlock was than Sherlock did his thing and told me my life story. He even went on to list some of the things he does, because flat mates should know the worst about each other. But anyway, that's how it started really."

Rosalie nodded and sat further into the chair. It was really comfortable. And surprisingly squishy. She listened to John go on about how Sherlock and him met. It was cool to actually hear it from the man himself and not from the other side of a screen. It just made her smile more and her decision to stay even better. She would miss seeing her friends, but this was amazing.

"So what have you seen of London so far?" John asked. Rosalie had been listening to him talking for a while now and he was curious how she was getting along in the city. She really was a sweet girl, making sure everything was paid for and all that. She also was strange in a way. She had made a point of him only knowing Sherlock for such a small amount of time and yet he killed for him. She just seemed to have this look in her eyes, something he couldn't place.

"Well, I haven't seen much. Spent most of my morning going through my phone and letting everyone know I was safe. Now really I'm just looking for a place to settle down. I can't stay in a hotel forever. So I guess I'm looking for a flat now."

At that moment Mrs. Hudson came in with a tray of tea things. "Here, I brought you some tea." John thanked her and began to pour some out of the teapot when Mrs. Hudson turned to Rosalie. "Couldn't help myself, dear, but I heard that you were looking for a flat. I have another one downstairs if you want to look."

'You have got to be kidding me.' She had thought of living in 221C before but with Sherlock so close she was worried that she would reveal something she wouldn't mean to. And she had only just met the boys, she couldn't just move in downstairs, it would look strange. But Mrs. Hudson was giving her a chance. Rosalie beamed at the woman and shot out of the chair. "Sure. I'll say that this is the fastest I've ever been able to find a place." Mrs. Hudson smiled and began to talk about the place downstairs as she led the American that way.

"It's quite roomy. There's a main bedroom and another room you can use as a guest room or office. The living room has got a working fireplace you can use. The bathroom and kitchen are all up to date equipment wise so you won't to worry about that. The bathroom is right next to the bedrooms." Mrs. Hudson went on, listing other facts about it as well.

They made it down to the first floor and Mrs. Hudson excused herself for a moment to retrieve the key. When she got back, she quickly unlocked it and led Rosalie down the short flight of stairs.

She could smell the damp as soon as she entered. The ceiling was higher than she had expected. The windows were much lower as well. The walls however showed signs of decay and the plaster was peeling from the wall around the fireplace. But she turned to the right and saw the kitchen and hallway. The kitchen wasn't so bad, just some of the tilling on the wall falling away but everything looked clean. The hallway was dark but she could make out the three doors which must have led to the two bedrooms and bathroom. She peeked inside the first bedroom and saw just the walls being a problem again. The bathroom was clean, and again only the walls cracking. The final bedroom held a lot of promise. The walls weren't nearly as bad and there were large windows that gave lots of light to the room.

"So what do you think? I know it's a bit of a fixer upper but it wouldn't be too much work." Mrs. Hudson was wringing her hands as she watched Rosalie wander around the flat. Rosalie turned to Mrs. Hudson, gave her a blank stare before smiling wide.

"Do you mind if I paint the walls?" Mrs. Hudson paused then gasped.

"Oh, you'll take it then?" She asked hopefully. Rosalie nodded and Mrs. Hudson just about leapt for joy. "Come upstairs, sweetie. I have some paperwork for you to fill out then." The two made their way upstairs and Rosalie soon found herself sitting at Mrs. Hudson's kitchen table, a pile of paperwork in front of her. They talked about the price and Rosalie only have heard it. She did ask though if it were possible for some workers to come in and clean up the damp and walls.

"I'll pay for it of course. I could possibly do it myself but I think a professional might be a better option." Mrs. Hudson agreed. "It's what been keeping most people away actually. I remember when I had a flat like that. Terrible business. But luckily wasn't there too long."

They soon finished up all the necessary paperwork and Mrs. Hudson said she would have a key made for her tomorrow. Smiling brightly, Rosalie thanked the woman for all her help. Mrs. Hudson waved her off. "Nonsense, dearie. I'm just glad to finally rent out the place."

The blond nodded. Suddenly her phone went off. Reaching out and pulling it out, she saw that she had a text from Stacey saying that Becky was expecting her to call soon. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Hudson, but I've got to take this." Mrs. Hudson just nodded and Rosalie took that as her cue to leave. She waved one more time back to Mrs. Hudson before leaving her flat.

Outside, Rosalie looked up and saw John coming down the stairs. "Hey there, neighbor." She said. John stopped mid step and stared at her. "What?" Rosalie smiled before she nodded her head back to 221A. "Just finished the paperwork. I'll be moving into the flat below." His eyes widened and then he smiled. "That's great. Lucky for you to find a place so quickly." She smiled to him and she began to head towards the front door. "Well, I've got to dash. Need to make some calls. Bye John!" They waved to each other before John watched Rosalie go out the door. His smile faded from his face.

* * *

When Mrs. Hudson left and the American woman followed, Sherlock got up and began to pace the room. "What are you doing?" John asked, startled a little by the sudden change in Sherlock.

"Thinking." The man barked. He paced and paced for a while before John leaned back and stared at him. "Thinking about what?"

"That woman."

"Who, Rosie?" Now John was puzzled. Sherlock stopped and point to the door. "That woman is holding something back. Not once has she held my gaze besides to infuriate me, every other time her eyes keep flicking around never staying still. I don't think she even knows she's doing it, but she is and its a sure sign of holding something back. But something has been bothering me."

"What Sherlock?"

"She froze."

Bewildered now, John has no idea where this was going. "Froze?"

"Yes. Froze. When Mrs. Hudson announced the cabbie was here, I saw her tense up when Mrs. Hudson said that. And then I caught a glimpse of her in the window when I was talking to the cabbie." Sherlock sat down in his own chair and faced John. "She knows something and I want to know what. I mean what sort of woman chases after two men through London on an abandoned tab. She also called me a high functioning sociopath when we first met, something no one has known on the spot before. She knows something and I can't figure out what." Sherlock growled as he leaned back into his chair and glared off to the side.

John thought over everything Sherlock said. He has noticed Rosie not looking well several times during the time they had met. She had a reasonable excuse each time but he remembered when she froze on front of the fire place. She looked to be on the edge of a mental breakdown, not tired from jet lag like she said. And then she had moved to the window straight after Sherlock went out. Maybe Sherlock was right. There was some truth to his words. However, John wanted to form his own opinions before thinking badly of the girl.

"Well then, I best be off. I need to finish packing. Just wanted to come let you know I would be coming tomorrow most likely." Sherlock hummed and John just got up and left him there to think. John was about half way down the stairs when he heard Rosalie.

Now he stood at the bottom of the stairs and pulled on his coat. Sherlock was right about something. There was something off about her. But John wanted to get to know more about her before coming to any conclusions now. Sherlock would figure it out eventually.

AN: So, what do you think? I wanted to tell more about Rosalie before going into The Blind Banker. I wanted her to have access to her old life so it would seem normal for her to text and call her friends, but I also wanted her to have access to the show because then she would be super protective of her laptop and actions speak louder than words. And I did my math wrong before, it's closer to two months between the cases. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I've already plotted out most of five. And I also have an idea for when Sherlock figures it out because honestly, only Mycroft can keep a secret from Sherlock super long. I hope to hear from you all soon! Bye!


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Hello everyone! Sorry about the later than usual update. Got super busy at work, then there was practice and then a competition for guard. I haven't abandoned this however and I did write down all the little ideas I have for what's to come. I've plotted out most of the Blind Banker episode and some of the Great Game. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

I don't own Sherlock!

Chapter 5

It had been over a month since both Rosalie and John moved into Baker Street. The cleaners she had hired had taken a week and a half as they had to tear some walls out to clear all the mold they found. But the walls were back up and Rosalie came in behind them and turned it into her home. And for the most part it was finished, except for her own bedroom, which she left as a surprise when John and Mrs. Hudson came down to see everything completed.

She woke up as usual now to the faint traces of paint still drying. As she pulled herself up she looked around the room. It was about three quarters of the way done, but she still had more details to paint. Pushing back the bedding, Rosalie stood and stretched. It was time for breakfast.

She had been trying to get on better terms with Sherlock and John. With John it had been easy, when she strolled up to the flat above and they just chatted on about their day every time she stopped by to check on the condition of her new home. The two got along quite nice but sometimes she noticed him giving her a strange look once in a while when he thought she wasn't looking. Sherlock however didn't hold his back and gave her strange looks often.

She wandered slowly into her new kitchen. She had taken down the tiling and put up a fresh coat of deep red paint. With Mrs. Hudson's permission, she also took apart the cabinets and cleaned them out and staining the wood into a darker rich brown to contrast the brightness of the red. Her stainless steel appliances and granite countertops went with the whole scheme nicely and Mrs. Hudson had approved of the results.

Rosalie began to pull out the eggs, sausage, bacon, butter and milk from the fridge as she yawned. Reaching up into one of the cabinets, she pulled out flour, sugar, baking powder and salt before reaching down to pull out two large pans from below.

An hour after, Rosalie began to smell the faintest hints of coffee coming from upstairs. Smiling, she loaded up her tray with the pancakes she had made and the eggs, sausage and bacon. She walked past the kitchen table and through her living room. She made it up the stairs and out the door of her flat alright before heading up further to 221B.

After the workers had left, Rosalie was finally able to bring in her furniture she had bought. John, being the kind of guy he is, offered to help. So she began to bring him breakfast in the morning as a way of saying thank you. But soon enough it became a habit for her to make breakfast for the three of them and have coffee with John in the morning before going on with her day.

Rosalie shifted to hold the tray against herself with one hand before knocking once and opening the door open. "Good morning gentlemen!"

Sherlock was sitting in his chair, already dressed for the day and reading. John was in the kitchen finishing up the coffee, dressed for the day as well when she came in and set the tray down in an empty spot on the table. "Morning, Rosie." The doctor greeted. He set down two coffee cups before going out and placing the third by Sherlock. Sherlock hummed a thanks before continuing to read. Rosalie shook her head and set about making plates for everyone.

"You know you don't have to do this, right? Make us breakfast every morning." John said as he sat down opposite of Rosalie. She just shrugged. "I've gotten used to it. Besides, it gives me something to do other than lounge around my flat." She had already explored most of London by then, there was nothing left for her to do besides finish her bedroom.

"Yes, and we're grateful. Or at least I am." Rosalie hummed and glanced at the detective. He had been ignoring Rosalie for the most part since she moved below. He did seem to study her and it would unnerved her at times. But she figured that's how he was with everyone new. And for all she knows, that's how he really acted off screen.

John and Rosalie enjoyed the breakfast she had made, Sherlock's plate left untouched. She didn't like that he wasn't eating as much but there was nothing she could do to get him to eat. She had tried once and all she got was an icy glare.

"Well, we're out of milk again. I'm heading to the store. Thanks again for the meal, Rosie." John gave her a grateful look at took his empty plate to the sink. Her own was empty and she was nursing her coffee when John left. "Bye, John!"

Sherlock studied the woman in his kitchen over his book. For weeks now, she had taken to bringing breakfast up to them in the mornings. Originally she said it as a thank you to John for the work he tried to get Sherlock to help with, but now she was up here every day. So far, she had done nothing strange again. Just went about her life like a normal person. Toured London, called her friends, painted regularly and all that normal stuff. And it aggravated him. At the beginning, there was something there about her that knew something. Now, it was gone, hiding. He watched as John left calling out about being out of milk again and left the woman alone. She began to clean up her own spot and he knew from the regular pattern that she would leave soon.

"How was your night then, Sherlock?" The detective looked up and saw the woman leaning against his table and facing him.

Rosalie leaned back and rested her hands on the table next to her. "Sleep well?" she continued. She had hardly held a conversation with Sherlock since the first night at the Chinese restaurant. But since that night, he had been ignoring her. At least, now he was. At the beginning, Sherlock would glare at her every time she was in the room. It had freaked her out, but she ignored him.

"No, busy."

Rosalie was shocked. She had actually gotten a response from him. Eyes widening, she tried to keep the conversation going.

"Busy doing what?"

"Thinking."

"About?"

"Stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"The usual stuff."

"You want me to stop now don't you?"

"That would be nice, yes."

Rosalie rolled her eyes and went about to gather her things. Sherlock went back to ignoring her and she left soon after that. Making her way down the stairs and into her flat, she left the tray on the counter with the dishes she had made and went to go shower and change. Heading into her room and going to the antique wardrobe she had bought, she pulled out a pair of nice black pants and a caramel sweater.

She went to the bathroom which she had designed nautically with rope holding the hand towel and wrapping around the mirror hanging above the sink. The bathmat and shower curtain both matched and had waves on it and she had put in shelves that held the extra towels on and painted them blue to go against the white of the walls and compliment the blue of the moldings and baseboards.

Hoping into the shower, she took her time to wash up. Lately she had been getting worried about when the next big case would start. The Blind Banker had happened about this time, but she hadn't heard anything from John about a case that they took or seen evidence of it in their flat. Grumbling, she finished up and got out, dressed and was brushing her teeth when she heard thumping from coming upstairs.

Spitting out into the sink, Rosalie turned her head and listened intently to what was going on. Thumping was actually a normal occurrence as Sherlock tended to just go over the furniture rather than around it as well as conduct rather odd experiments. But this sounded different. Padding barefoot out of her bathroom and into the living, Rosalie began to make her way upstairs again. The thumping got louder and she could now begin to make out a wooshing sound as well, like something heavy was moving through the air.

Not bothering to knock, Rosalie opened the door just in time to see a man dressed in desert clothing pining Sherlock to the table. 'Shit!'

"Hey!" She called out. The man pining Sherlock down was distracted enough by the new person in the room for the detective to get loose. Rosalie watched as Sherlock pushed him off and he came stumbling back into the living room. He swung his sword again and Sherlock ducked. Then he reached out his arm and pointed to the wall.

"There!" was the last thing the man heard after he fell for Sherlock's trick and was knocked out by an uppercut. Breathing heavily, Sherlock straightened his clothes in the mirror before turning back to the woman in the room only to find her much closer than expected.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did he get you with the sword?" Rosalie rushed out as she began to check over Sherlock for wounds. She knew he couldn't be too badly hurt but she was still worried. Sherlock just watched as she looked over him with concern.

"I'm alright. No lasting harm done." He turned back and regarded the man past out in his chair. He would have to get rid of him somehow before John came back. Rosalie also looked at the man. She remembered this happening before, but caught in the moment didn't realize till after the fight was finished.

Sherlock turned back to the woman and stopped. There it was again. That look in her eyes like she knew something. He narrowed his own and watched her. Rosalie looked up to him then.

"Need help with him?" she offered. Sherlock continued to study her before shaking his head. "No, I can handle it. Go back downstairs."

Rosalie pouted. But she didn't push. She couldn't exactly do anything while Sherlock and her weren't on good speaking terms. It seemed the man could only barely tolerate her presence. So she left and went back downstairs, deciding to finish up the dishes before thinking of what to do next.

She had heard John return an hour or so later and then leave again a few minutes after that. She knew that she would only have a couple hours to figure out how she was going to convince John and Sherlock to let her tag along. She still hadn't figured it out when she heard the door slam and John cursing.

His hands were loaded with bags and several were slipping from his fingers. Rosalie came up to see him struggling to adjust his grip on some of them. "Here, let me help." She reached out and took the bags out of his right hand and began to make her way upstairs. "Thanks." John said, following the American up the stairs.

They found Sherlock sitting at the table in their living room and John started to complain. "Don't worry about us, we can manage." John and Rosalie set the bags on the table in the kitchen. "Want some help putting it away?" The army doctor smiled and nodded.

"Is that my computer?" John asked when he finally noticed Sherlock sitting at the table with it.

"Of course. Mine was in the bedroom."

"What, you couldn't bother to get up?" Irritated now, John took off his coat and threw it over the back of his chair. "It's password protected!"

"In a manner of speaking, took me less than a minute to guess your password. Not exactly Fort Knox."

Fed up now, John went over and slammed the computer shut, almost catching Sherlock's fingers. The detective just let it happen and steeple his hands against him mouth, staring ahead. Rosalie finished placing the last of their groceries away when John sat down. He began to riffle through some mail and bills, commenting to himself about getting a job, before finally setting them down and looking to Sherlock.

"Listen," John started as he leaned forward in his seat. "If you'd be able to lend me some…" John paused. Rosalie stood behind him and waited for Sherlock's response.

"Sherlock, are you listening?" John asked as Sherlock continued to stare off into space. Sherlock lifted his head and then announced, "I need to go to the bank." Without further explanation, Sherlock got up and grabbed his coat and scarf before heading out the door. John got up quickly after that and grabbed his own coat.

"You going on a case?" Rosalie asked as she watched John pull his coat on.

"I don't know, but with Sherlock…" John began. Rosalie hummed.

"Can I come along?" John stopped and rounded on her.

Sherlock had mentioned a look before, something about Rosie that was just odd. As if she knew things. He could see it in her blue eyes, a look of something that wasn't explainable. Slowly John nodded. "I don't see why not." Rosalie smiled and rushed down the stairs, her boots she had put on earlier surprisingly soft against the wood. John made his way much slower and saw Rosalie pull a bright red coat from the wall before the wall. "Thanks for letting me tag along." She said with a bright smile. John smiled back and the two made it out the door just in time to see Sherlock finally get a cab.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded. Rosalie looked up at him and grinned. "I'm bored and you're going on a case, aren't you? Thought it might be some fun." John hopped in and before Sherlock could protest, Rosalie jumped into the cab quickly after the army doctor. Sherlock glared and got in last, seating himself next to John.

The car ride there was quiet as John stared out the window and Rosalie tried to ignore the detective's stare. Sherlock finally gave up on whatever his line of thought was and he too looked out the window before finally calling out for the driver to stop. He got out after he paid and the other two quickly followed him out. Both John and Rosalie gapped at the massive building before them and slowly followed Sherlock into the 'bank.'

Rosalie kept turning her head this way and that as Sherlock led them through the rotating door and up the escalator. "So when you said we were going to the bank…" John said and Rosalie nudged him with her elbow. "This is so not just a bank. This is way too fancy and big." John smirked and glanced around as well. "You're probably right, Rosie." She smiled and the three made it to the front desk. Sherlock strode straight up to the desk and announced himself. The receptionist immediately picked up the phone and called someone. Sherlock walked back to the others and waited silently for whatever he was waiting for. Rosalie and John continued to look around until someone came and got the three and led them to a boring office. Rosalie grimaced at the monochromatic scheme of the room and suddenly wished for her paint brushes and colors. Sherlock glanced at her and John also looked at the room disdainfully for a moment before letting a mask fall over his face.

A short time later a man came in dressed in a smart suit and a smile and immediately reached out a hand to the detective. "Sherlock Holmes." He said and shook hands with the detective.

"Sebastian."

"How are you, buddy? Its been what, eight years since I last clapped eyes on you."

Sherlock ignored the comment and gestured to John, who had joined the two men. Rosalie followed and walked around to the other side of Sherlock.

"This is my friend, John Watson." Sebastian gave a look of disbelief to Sherlock and then looked to John. Rosalie grimaced as John corrected Sherlock, calling himself a colleague. She glanced at Sherlock and saw the flash of hurt go through his eyes as Sebastian confirmed the correction. Rosalie desperately wanted to comfort the man but couldn't as she was sure he wouldn't allow her to do it.

"And who is this beautiful lady?" Rosalie looked up to see Sebastian looking down at her, a smile in place. The American nodded her head and forced a smile on her face. For some reason, this man gave her the creeps.

"Rosalie." She held out her hand and Sebastian took it, but instead of shaking it, he brushed his lips over her knuckles and Rosalie barely suppressed the urge to shiver in disgust. He locked eyes with her while doing so and the man let his eyes roam over her afterwards. Rosalie politely drew her hand back and barely restrained herself from wiping her hand on her jacket.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Rosalie."

Sherlock watched the exchange and saw the woman's reaction. He watched as she gripped her hand firmly and could see the tension in her stance. Sebastian drew away then and asked if the three needed anything, coffee or water?

John said no and Rosalie just shook her head as the four took seats, Sebastian behind the desk and Sherlock between John and Rosalie.

"So you're doing well. You've been abroad a lot." Sherlock said as he leaned back into the chair. Sebastian shrugged his shoulders and gave Sherlock a smirk.

"Flying all around the world, twice in a month."

Sebastian scoffed and pointed at Sherlock. "You're doing that thing." The man leaned forward towards John and went on to explain how Sherlock was like in school, how he could tell who've been shagging the night before at breakfast, how much everyone hated him for being able to tell their whole life story. Rosalie tightened her grip, her nails digging into her palm, nearly drawing blood. She hated having to sit there and listen to this jackoff belittle Sherlock's talents in front of him. Rosalie wanted to punch the smug man straight in his mouth.

"I simply observed." Sherlock remarked, his head hanging slightly.

"Go on, enlighten me. 'Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world?' You're quite right. How could you tell?" Sherlock opened his mouth to answer but Sebastian ignored him and went on to say stupid things like it was his tie with a stain of ketchup on it that you could only get in Manhattan or maybe the mud on his shoes.

Sherlock waited a moment before explaining that he was just chatting with Sebastian's secretary outside. Rosalie bite her lip and looked away, trying to hold back a giggle. Sherlock glanced at her and surprisingly offered a small smile. John gave Sherlock a look before turning back to the man behind the desk.

Sebastian's smug look fell and he forced a laugh out, clapping his hands together. Rosalie turned back as Sebastian began to explain why he called Sherlock there.

"I'm glad you could make it over. We've had a break-in." The man got up and the three followed him out of his office and out onto the business floor. Sebastian explained to the two men following about what happened. Rosalie glanced around at the place and noted the same monochromatic scheme spilling out into the cubicles and even how the people dressed. She frowned, wishing she could see some sort of color as she followed the men to an office. Sebastian waved a card in front of a reader and led the three inside. Rosalie looked up at the portrait of a man with a streak of yellow painted across his eyes and a strange eight like symbol next to it. Sherlock stood for a moment and analyzed it. John looked around and saw nothing else beside the paint to be out of the ordinary. Sebastian led them back to his office and pulled up the security video of the office on his computer.

"Sixty seconds apart." He said as he tapped at some buttons and showed the video of the paint not being there one minute and there exactly a minute later. The three from Baker Street huddled around the screen and watched. Sherlock stood up and asked the man how many ways there were into that office.

"Well, that's where this gets really interesting." He then led them down to where they first came in and brought them around the front desk and logged into the computer.

"Every door that opens in this bank, gets logged in here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet."

Sebastian pulled away from the computer and John and Rosalie began to examine the time sheet that came up along with the floor plans that appeared on the screen.

"That door didn't open last night?" Sherlock asked, standing straight but also examining the computer screen. Sebastian looked to the detective and then looked back to the screen. Finally he got to the point of the meeting.

"There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you five figures." The man said and then he reached into his coat and pulled out a check, claiming it to be an advance. "Tell me how he got in. There's a bigger one on its way." Sebastian held the check out to Sherlock. The detective however barely glanced at it before moving around the man.

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian." John and Rosalie watched as Sherlock left them and headed back to the trade floor. John turned back and reached out for the check, Rosalie still watching Sherlock go.

"He's, uh… He's kidding you, obviously. Shall I look after that for him? Thanks." John took the check and Rosalie finally turned back around and looked over his shoulders. Her jaw dropped. 'Five thousand pounds!' John's shoulders sagged and he breathed heavily for a moment.

"Jesus." The doctor whispered and Rosalie grasped his shoulder for a second. "You can fawn over it later, Sherlock left us." John looked over and saw Rosalie standing beside him, though even he could see the look of disbelief in her eyes at the number printed on the check.

"Let's go find him." They made their way back up to the trade floor and stopped. The best way Rosalie could describe what Sherlock was doing was some sort of whack-a-mole impression. He would pop his head up one area, then duck down and jump to another. John and Rosalie weren't the only ones to stare at the man, many of the workers were stopping what they were doing and gawking at him. Sherlock continued to make his way further and further from the office they were in until finally he stopped. Then he moved forward before jumping back to where he was. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and then moved forward.

"Find what you were looking for?" If it had been anyone else, they would have jumped, but Sherlock turned back to see his neighbor and current mystery standing behind him. Rosalie looked up at him and nodded her head towards the office. "The message, find who it was intended for?" The detective brow pinched as he slowly nodded his head.

"Yes." Rosalie hummed as she watched Sherlock pull out the name card from the wall next to him and turned back to the American woman. "How did you know it was a message?" Rosalie's blue eyes widened a smidge but then she smiled. "What else could it be? Unless it was a prank and someone was trying to mess with someone. Was it a prank? Not likely though, the people here are so boring."

Sherlock shook his head and walked away from her then. Rosalie bit her lip as she followed the man back down to the escalators. She definitely needed to be more careful with what she said. But she still wanted to try and be friends with Sherlock. Groaning internally, she hoped onto the moving stairs behind John.

"Two trips around the world this month. You didn't ask his secretary, you said that just to irritate him." The doctor said to Sherlock. Rosalie smiled as she remembered the smug look on Sebastian's face fall. The man really was creepy in real life.

"How did you know?"

"Did you see his watch?" John furrowed his brow at the question. "His watch?"

Sherlock moved quickly through the bank and made his way to a second pair of moving stairs. "The time was right but the date was wrong. It was set two days ago. Crossed the date line twice and he didn't alter it." The three stepped onto the stairs as John asked how he got the within the month part.

"New Breitling. Only came out this February."

"Expensive too, thing costs several hundred pounds." John looked back and saw Rosalie leaning against the railing. He smiled and then turned back to Sherlock, asking if they needed anything else from here.

"Got everything I need to know already, thanks. That graffiti was a message." Sherlock glanced at Rosalie then as she moved to his other side that wasn't occupied by John. "Someone in the bank, working on the trading floor. We find the intended recipient and…"

John thought it over and worked it out. "They'll lead us to the person who sent it?"

"Obvious."

"Well there's three hundred people up there. Who was it meant for?" John asked.

"Pillars."

"What?"

"The pillars, John. They were in the way. So when Sherlock did his whack-a-mole dance, he was trying to figure out who would be able to see the message from where they worked." John turned around and gapped at the woman behind him. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her from over his shoulder. Then he turned back around and stepped off the escalator. John would have tripped if Rosalie hadn't motioned for him to turn around.

"And, of course, the message was left at 11:34 last night." Sherlock continued, rushing towards the doors. "That tells us a lot."

"Does it?" Both Rosalie and John were speed walking, almost running to keep up with the man in front. 'Stupid tall people with their stupid long legs.' Sherlock ignored their struggles and kept on with his explanation, talking about how traders came in at all hours to work, and that some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. "That message was intended for somebody who came in at midnight. Not many Van Coons in the phone book." Sherlock held up the name tag he swiped for John and Rosalie to see. Then it was gone when he reached out a hand and called out for a taxi.

The two shorter people followed after him more slowly now and John turned to Rosalie then. "You thought he looked like a whack-a-mole too?" She laughed out loud then, drawing attention to herself and John. He chuckled and threw his arm over her shoulders. "Should have gotten it on camera." She was still giggling when the two made it to the taxi and followed the detective into the back. "Yeah, we should have."

AN: And that's where I'm ending it for now. Like I said above, I got super busy this past week. I couldn't write as much as I wanted to. I haven't abandoned this though as it way too much fun to do that. I've plotted out Blind Banker for the most part, have a general idea of where I want to go with it and I've already decided when Rosie's secret comes out. I hope you enjoy this chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

I don't own Sherlock!

Chapter 6

Rosalie stared out the window, watching the buildings pass by. The ride to Van Coon's flat was long, almost twenty minutes and none of the Baker Street inhabitants were speaking. John watched the scenery pass by but Sherlock studied the woman some more. Since this morning, she had that look about her again. The same look as before from the cabbie case. She seemed to know exactly what he was doing and why he was doing it. She also seemed to know of things she shouldn't. He narrowed his eyes at her as a dark thought passed through his mind.

'It's possible… She would have known if she worked with this Moriarty.' Sherlock turned away and looked out the window. If she was working for Moriarty, than he would have to keep a close eye on her then. And yet, she didn't seem the type of person who would align herself with people like that. Moriarty was something dark and dangerous and exciting for the detective. Rosalie was none of these things, boring and simply. Except when she followed them on cases. Then there was something about her…. Realizing his thoughts were beginning to go in circles somewhat, he pushed the mystery of the American woman aside and put his thoughts back on the case Sebastian had presented.

Not soon enough, the driver brought them to a complex and the three got out. John and Rosalie looked up at the building and Sherlock went to the door bells. He buzzed Van Coon's button and waited. John looked up at the building and frowned before turning his attention to Sherlock. Rosalie stood by and watched as Sherlock buzzed again. Knowing how this would end, she turned from the boys and looked across the street.

'How the bloody blue fuck could someone get up there?' She traced the edges of the buildings with her eyes for how the acrobat could scale up into Van Coon's apartment. It seemed impossible to do in person, but possible on the other side. Real life made the whole thing seem impossible, standing on the street where he did and seeing the distance between the buildings made her question whether mutants were real and the dude could levitate or fly or humans could really be that skilled.

Sherlock began to mumble to John about something before Rosalie turned back to them and watched as Sherlock buzzed the apartment above Van Coon's. A woman's voice responded.

"Hi! I live in the flat just below you. I don't think we've met." Rosalie stifled a giggle at the change in Sherlock's voice.

Careful Sherlock, your Benedict is showing.

"No. Well, I –uh- just moved in."

Sherlock looked at John for some reason and smirked. Rosalie rolled her eyes and listened as Sherlock manipulated the woman.

"Actually, I've just locked my keys in my flat." Sherlock was really selling it, even acting like a normal person who made a mistake. When the woman offered to buzz him in, he jumped on it.

"And can we use your balcony?"

The woman paused before responding, "What? Uh, sure." Rosalie shook her head and John just sighed, shoulders sagging as he looked up. "Unbelievable." Sherlock frowned at John and stalked past him when he heard the door being electronically opened.

They climbed the six flights of stairs up to the woman's apartment. Well Sherlock did. When the three got to the landing of the fifth floor, he told both John and Rosalie to go to Van Coon's apartment and wait there.

"I'll let you in from the inside."

"Sherlock I do believe that what you are about to do is called breaking and entering and is considered illegal." Sherlock ignored Rosalie and John shook his head at the comment. Whatever came to Sherlock's mind, there was no stopping him from doing whatever he felt like doing. John just grabbed Rosalie by the shoulders and pushed her forward down the hall. She huffed as she was marched down the hall to the apartment and stomped her foot as they stopped outside the door.

"It's not fair he's making us wait outside the guy's door." The doctor looked over at the American woman and smiled. "Did you want to break and enter as well?" Said woman glared at the man and he chuckled lightly, turning back to lean further against the wall. The two waited in silence for a moment before John turned and buzzed the doorbell.

"He should have made it inside by now." Rosalie glared at the door and remembered how Sherlock took his sweet ass time letting John in. Wasn't gonna change now that she was here. John buzzed again and called out to the detective.

"Sherlock, are you okay?" John's question was ignored and now even he was getting annoyed.

"Yeah, anytime you feel like letting us in." They heard a crash from inside and Rosalie knew Sherlock had found Van Coon's body. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily. John buzzed again and called out for Sherlock. A few moments passed before the detective came to the door. "I believe this is where you come in John."

John just pushed past Sherlock and left the two standing in the doorway. The detective turned back to Rosalie and glanced over her form. She seemed resigned. Furrowing his brows a bit, he opened the door a bit for her, silently telling her to come in. She hesitated and took small steps in the dead man's home. Sherlock followed her and stopped once she made her way to the double doors he had just broken down.

Seeing an actor in a television series or movie playing dead was one thing. Seeing an actual dead body was another. She knew from the beginning that he was going be dead, but actually seeing his dead body was something that slipped her mind. Rosalie could feel Sherlock's gaze on the back of her head as she breathed in deeply and then exhaled.

If she was going to stay here in Sherlock and John's world and be with them, she was going to see a lot more than just a dead body.

Pushing the dark thoughts aside, the American strode into the room and joined John by the bed. Van Coon laid on his back towards the open window and a small bullet hole bore into his right temple. His glassy eyes stared lifeless up to the ceiling. John began to call out the things he saw to Sherlock. Rosalie stared at the bullet hole and suddenly all the courage she had gathered left her and she couldn't watch it anymore. She had witnessed death before, having seen John kill the cabbie, but seeing a body still upset her. When the police had called after her parents' accident for her to identify the bodies, she had broken down in the morgue and cried her heart out. Becky and Stacey had to practically carry her away from her parent's bodies. Death still disturbed her.

"Rosie, are you alright?" The woman came out of her thoughts and looked up to see John staring at her, eyes full of concern. She just gave him a small smile before turning away from the body and roaming elsewhere in the apartment. She would get used to death eventually, just not now.

She didn't know who phoned the police, but suddenly the cops showed up and Rosalie put down the magazine she had found in the living room before returning back to the boys side.

"Do you think he'd lost a lot of money? I mean, suicide is pretty common among city boys." John turned to Sherlock, cameras clicking in the background. Rosalie grimaced at the body and kept her eyes off it as the police photographed the entire apartment. She turned to the closet and watched as Sherlock went off and stopped buy it, riffling through Van Coon's belongings.

"We don't know it was suicide." John scoffed at the remark.

"The door was locked from the inside and you had to climb down the balcony." Sherlock was ignoring him though and was looking at the dead guys…. Underwear. Rosalie scrunched her nose at the sight of the guy's bag where his obviously used underwear was. Why couldn't guys be a bit cleaner and neater when they were packing? It is so easy to separate the clothes with a plastic bag to keep the dirty clothes away from the clean one. It was just gross.

"Been away three days, judging by the laundry." Sherlock stood and turned to John. He gave him that look and began to explain his thoughts as if it was obvious.

"Look at the case, there was something packed tightly inside it." John just glanced at it, saying he'll take Sherlock's word for it. Sherlock asked if there was a problem when Rosalie sighed.

"Normal guys don't go through others guys' dirty underwear, tall boy. Especially dead ones." Sherlock glared at her while John smiled. She grinned back at the two before walking off further into the apartment as Sherlock and John discussed more about the case. Going into the kitchen, Rosalie went about looking around at the thing Sherlock would mention in a moment when Dimmock turned up. If there was one thing she was going to learn while living here, it was that the little things mattered in the big picture.

"We're obviously looking at a suicide."

Rosalie turned around to see three men come into the room, the officer handing one of the crime technicains a bag of evidence.

"It does seem the only explanation of all the facts." John was the last one to enter the room, following Sherlock, who circled around to face John.

"Wrong. It's one possible explanation of some of the facts."

Now Sherlock had rounded to Dimmock, and began to rip his reasoning apart. The detective and consulted rushed through the argument. Rosalie smirked as she watched Sherlock attempt to demonstrate how a left handed person could possibly shot themselves on their right side.

"Left handed?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked about the room, his eyes landing on Rosalie for a moment before turning back to the annoying man before him.

"I'm amazed you didn't notice, all you have to do is look around this flat."

Then the fun began.

Point. "Coffee table on the left-hand side, coffee mug handle to the left."

Point. "Power sockets, habitually used the ones on the left."

Point. "Pen and paper on the left hand side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took messages with his left."

"Do you want me to go on?" John inhaled deeply before rolling his eyes up and closing them, sighing out slowly. Sherlock was going into one of his fits again when someone was being and idiot in his books, which was most of the time.

"No, I think you've covered it." Sherlock ignored him though and turned to face the kitchen.

"I might as well, I'm almost at the bottom of the list."

"There's a knife on the bread board with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left."

Sherlock returned back to the moron next to him and told him it's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head.

"Conclusion, someone broke in here and murdered him, only explanation of all the facts."

Dimmock didn't believe him. Lestrade had made a mention to him about how Sherlock worked, but he didn't believe him. Now the consulting detective was spouting all of this information as if anyone could see it.

"But the gun?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He hated having to explain everything. It was so obvious. "He was waiting for the killer."

"He had been threatened." The three men turned to find Rosalie now standing next to John. The army doctor seemed surprised by her sudden appearance and she gave an apologetic smile to him for startling him a bit.

"What?"

John turned back to the inspector and explained what they had found at the bank. Sherlock by then had started to put on his coat and scarf. The consultant went on to explain how things went down. How Van Coon had fired a shot when the attacker came in and how the bullet went through the open window when Dimmock asked. Rosalie tightened her coat a bit and pulled at the ends of her sleeves. She rolled her eyes at Dimmock's disbelief.

"Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't from his gun." Sherlock said as he yanked on his gloves. "I guarantee it."

"If his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?" This conversation was even beginning to annoy John, who kept on breathing deeply. Rosalie reached out and patted his arm in reassurance. Sherlock let out a breathe sigh as he told Dimmock he was finally asking the right questions. Then he turned and left the room. Rosalie stood there for a moment before sighing and walking out as well, following the detective. John only hesitated a moment before he too followed the man.

Sherlock was already halfway down the hall when Rosalie and John caught up to him. "Sherlock, are you alright?" The American asked. He ignored her and stomped his way down the flight of stairs. John huffed and rushed after the man, Rosalie following them as well.

The three marched out of the building and Sherlock hardly had his hand up long when he hailed a taxi. Still silent, the consultant hopped into the car with the army doctor close behind and the American shutting the door behind her. Sherlock growled an address at the driver and the car began to move. Neither John nor Rosalie talked as Sherlock glared out the window.

"Hey, tall boy, you alright?" Sherlock just glared at the woman before returning his gaze back to the outside world. Rosalie sighed and rolled her eyes. "I hate idiots too, but you don't need to sulk about it."

"I'm not sulking."

Rosalie stared at him blankly before Sherlock huffed and ignored the two for the rest of the car ride. When they finally stopped, Rosalie paid and the three got out. John and Rosalie looked at the building, a nice restaurant that only one of them could afford. Nudging her shoulder, John motioned for Rosalie to follow Sherlock, who was already ahead of them a bit.

"I hate it when he just walks off like that. He's too damn tall for my short legs to keep up sometimes." Laughing, John agreed with her. "Is that why you call him tall boy?"

Rosalie smiled at John before shaking her head. "No, I call him that because I can't think of any other nicknames for him, besides things I really shouldn't say in public."

John just chuckled and held the door open for her as they walked into the restaurant to see Sherlock asking a waitress questions. Nodding, Sherlock turned to his current companions and again walked off, leaving John and Rosalie to follow.

"It was a threat." Sherlock called out. Rosalie stood behind John when they came up to Sebastian's table. The conversation stopped as the men looked up to see Sherlock standing there. "That's what the graffiti meant."

Sebastian stared at Sherlock for a moment before swallowing his food. "I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?"

Sherlock glared down at the man, sarcasm dripping from his words. "I don't think this can wait. Sorry, Sebastian. One of your traders, someone who worked in your office, was killed."

Rosalie grimaced and hissed under her breathe. She could see the man's face pale and knew he had lost his appetite. When the man asked what and John replied with one name. Van Coon.

"The police are at his flat."

"Killed?" Sebastian asked with disbelief.

"Yep, and I think we should have this conversation elsewhere." Rosalie said, looking at the men around the table as well as the other patrons of the restaurant. Sherlock nodded and they all watched as Sebastian stood and hurried around the table, leading the three to the men's bathroom. The business man pushed through the door and Sherlock followed. Rosalie grimaced at the sound of sudden retching.

"I'm going to stay out here." Rosalie said. John gave her a small smile and nodded. "Might be best if you did."

She leaned against the wall and waited. She nodded and smiled at the people who past but soon she was lost in thought. 'What's next? Oh, the other guy turns up dead. The photographer or journalist. Then it's the paint guy, running, figuring out how the two know each other and then going to meet Soo Lin. What's next…..'

So lost in thought, Rosalie didn't notice when Sebastian came out of the bathroom. She jumped when he rounded and almost ran into her.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there." He said. Rosalie shook her head and looked up at him. "No, it's fine. I should have been paying better attention."

Sebastian nodded and moved past her. Rosalie moved away and watched as the man walked away. She felt rather than saw Sherlock and John come up behind her. "I take it than, he didn't believe you?" The detective glared after the man before John responded for him.

"No, he didn't."

Rosalie sighed and pulled her coat tighter around her. "What now, boys? We wait?"

"We wait." Sherlock said.

AN:

I am so sorry.

So sorry that it took me months to get this to you guys. Life hasn't been easy on me, but I tried to write here and there while I could. Good news is is that life isn't so shitty anymore and I can finally get everything back under control and I can write more often. So here is the sixth chaper of the Runaway Artist. I'll begin working on the seventh chapter here in a bit. I'll also start writing more so I can get these out to you guys. Thank you so much guys for being patient and reading my work. Thank you for leaving reviews.

Thank you for everything.


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